


Resonance

by spitfyah



Series: Aira-Verse [3]
Category: Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Aira-verse, Alternate Universe, America/England Feels (Hetalia), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based off of LOST, Cardverse, End of the World, Eventual Happy Ending, Loosely tied in to the Aira-verse, M/M, Magic England (Hetalia), One-Sided England/France (Hetalia), Parallels, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Nuclear War, Temporary Amnesia, Time Loop, as in the TV show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5557562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spitfyah/pseuds/spitfyah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The monarchy of Spades believed their only problem was the looming war with the ruthless Kingdom of Clubs. When Alfred and Arthur ascend to the throne, they uncover the real problem- their world may not be all that it seems. Cardverse AU, post WWIII. Based loosely on the plot of LOST.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Start

The sky was pale grey. Snow fell from its place in the heavens, landing upon a desolate, frost-covered land: landed on a lone figure, a worn cloak thrown over his shoulders as he trod through the thick snowstorm.

None lived in this land. As far as the man knew, none lived. He'd awoke almost buried in the white powder, with no memory of why or when or where- now, desperately he searched for another sign of life, of civilization, of anything.

Bitter wind blew like a cold slap against his skin when he tripped over a rock jutting out of the snow, landing on his stomach with a force that took his breath away. Unsure of whether he should even try to continue, the man, in anguish, cried out, fingers curling into fists as tremors wracked his body. Violet eyes opened and caught an eerie, blue tint staining the snow- too bright to be natural. Craning his head backward, he barely made out the so-called rock he had tripped over... glowing blue.

The man struggled into a sitting position, and tentatively reached out for the glowing tube.

—

_Monarchies,_ Arthur mused. _Who needs them? With Clubs and Spades on the brink of war, you'd think they'd be doing something, the irresponsible blokes._

"Kirkland!" Someone snapped. "Stop daydreaming and get back to work!"

Shaken out of his thoughts, Arthur continued his job with a glare at his boss's back, loading crates of miscellaneous items onto a ship. The sun beat down on him as he worked, swinging crates back and forth until the evening, where he would return to his broken-down shack, sleep for a measly five hours, wake up, and go back to work. This had been his life since forever: it had always been this way, and it would always be this way.

The stories Arthur had been told from fellow workers always spoke of the Kingdom of Spades in a favorable light. Spades used to be rich, wealthy, the dominate Empire over all the other Kingdoms. While it was still the most dominate Kingdom, Spades was now certainly a shadow of what it used to be, or at least, what Arthur assumed it used to be. The looming war with Clubs foreshadowed every thought of every citizen. The hostile Kingdom had already attacked Spades' allies, the Kingdom of Hearts, months ago, officially breaking the 'what if they attack' mindset.

Spades was separate from the other Kingdoms: special because it was a small island, protected because the nearest Kingdom was Diamonds, the only neutral Kingdom out of the four. Clubs had always been a problem, Arthur was always told, because the King of Clubs was out for revenge, or so the tales went. It was all poppycock, Arthur firmly believed. The King of Clubs just wanted to see the Kingdom of Spades fall, because Spades was great and Clubs was not.

Arthur situated a crate meticulously, trying not to fall into his thoughts again, when someone shouted, "The King of Spades is dead!"

Collective gasps and murmurs spread through the docks: Arthur hopped off the stack of crates he was balanced precariously on, and ran to the hull of the ship, peering over the side below at the group of commoners. One frantically exclaimed, "Dead? But that means-"

"The monarchs have died out, and with no heir..."

Narrowing his eyes, Arthur listened as someone murmured, "The birthmarks... the sign of the King and Queen... they must be among one of us!"

That did it. All of his fellow workers were idiots, Arthur decided, as he grabbed one of the loose ropes connected to the mast and leaped off the side of the boat. He swung onto the docks, gathering the attention of the group, who gave him warm smiles. "Did you hear the news, Arthur?"

"How couldn't I, with all you lot screaming?" Arthur huffed. "Now, what's with all this commotion of Kings and death and birthmarks? We have jobs to do, don't we? If you value your money, get back to it!"

Someone chuckled. "You're still young. Of course you wouldn't understand how exciting this is!"

"Oh, do tell," Arthur shot back dryly. "Apologies, but politics never called to me the way they call to you all." He gestured to the group of commoners, turning his back in order to climb onto the boat once more.

"Aha!" One of them cried out. "Arthur's never experienced a coronation before!"

Another grabbed Arthur's shoulders and dragged him backward, right into the group of workers. "Singing and dancing for an entire day! We all gather into the Royal Palace and drink away our sorrows! It's-"

"A great way to get wasted?" Arthur interrupted, trying to push away the enthusiastic commoners. "I'll be nowhere close."

One laughed, and replied, "One day, Arthur. We'll get you loving the Spades monarchy."

Shooting a grin back at the group as he walked away, Arthur called back, "Not on your nelly!" He heard the resounding laughs as the commoners continued to gossip about the next line of royalty, and assuming his boss was among them, instead of mounting the ship like he was supposed to, Arthur walked to the end of the docks, gazing out at the ocean.

_Everything will return to normal tomorrow,_ he thought. _They'll find the King and Queen, and maybe they'll have the common sense to stop this war._

—

Sure enough, the King was found later that evening. But as one day bled into two days, and two into three, the Queen remained yet to be found. The town was buzzing with chatter: everyone checked for that special tattoo that the Royalty was rumored to have spanning across their back, but no one bore the birthmark.

The coronation for the King proceeded as planned- for one night, everyone forgot about their troubles and eagerly gathered at the Royal Palace. Fireworks lit up the night sky, commoners with masks and dresses and suits waltzed around, and Arthur, as adamant as he was about celebrating a King, found himself dressed in his most fancy commoner outfit (a tunic, a vest, pants, and boots- an obvious lack of fancy), walking along the path that led to the palace.

It was beautiful: tall and elegant, vines weaving their way up the stones, the huge steel door open, revealing dancing, laughing people of the Kingdom inside. Arthur approached the doors to enter, but his gaze fell upon the garden maze on each side of the path, and Arthur would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate gardening. With no one in sight, he snuck inside, admiring the trimmed hedges and roses, deciding that this was more enjoyable than socializing in a palace, gossiping about how cute the new King was, how everyone and their mother wanted to be his Queen.

He eventually neared the end of the maze, leading out into a clear expanse, rolling hills of grass, and a lone tree overarching a bench. Arthur wasn't sure what drew him closer, but as he approached the bench, he spotted someone alone, hunched over, fiddling with what looked like a rose.

"All alone?" Arthur asked quietly. The man turned, eyes wide. He didn't look like a commoner- Arthur couldn't process where he had seen this person before, but something told him that he knew this man.

Letting out a soft laugh, the man nodded. "It would appear."

"Why are you out here, when everyone is inside?"

"I could ask you the same," he pointed out, lips quirking upward. He gestured to the bench, a silent question.

Arthur complied, sitting beside him. "I suppose. Your name?"

"Alfred." He smiled, shadows dancing across his face as the wind blew, rocking the tree back and forth. Its branches waved, and Arthur watched as the Spades emblems that hung from each branch clinked in the breeze. Peaceful this sanctuary was: Arthur wondered if it would be a crime to return once the night was over. "May I have the pleasure in knowing yours?"

Eyes closing, Arthur laughed. "I am just a regular commoner. My name is of no importance."

Shrugging, Alfred leaned forward on his knees slightly. "But I've told you mine. It would only be fair."

This man was strange, Arthur decided. "It's Arthur. If you must know."

They sat in companionable silence, watching the breeze sway the tree, hearing the clink of emblems that decorated its branches like icicles clinking against each other. Wind rustled Arthur's hair to the side, and as he cleared hair from his eyes, Alfred asked, "What do you think of Spades?"

Eyebrows furrowing, Arthur replied, "A broad question, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," he smiled. "Do you like it?"

"It's been my home for as long as I can remember. I'm inclined to like it."

Airily he laughed. "You amuse me. Be honest- if you could change something, what would you change?"

Arthur frowned, glancing at Alfred. "Well, I would start with ending war with Clubs."

"It's not that simple."

"I'm not a child," Arthur snapped back. "I know that it wouldn't be simple, prat." There went his self-control. But instead of leaving, like Arthur assumed, Alfred simply laughed again.

"I bet you could end it," Alfred murmured, smiling at him. Arthur was taken aback, feeling guilty for snapping at him, when Alfred continued, "What do you think of our new King?"

Rolling his eyes, Arthur snorted, "Embellished. Enormously."

The sound of Alfred's laughter seemed well-acquainted with Arthur's ears, for some bizarre reason. "Arthur, I think I like you." Wiping away wetness from his eyes, Alfred continued, "I haven't met one person who openly admitted such words."

"Allow me to be the first," Arthur shot back, unable to stop the grin from spreading across his face.

There was a loud ringing- the Spades tower clock struck midnight. Alfred, with a final, content sigh, stood up, taking Arthur's hand in his own. "I must leave, but thank you for your company." Their eyes lingered- Arthur couldn't speak, too enrapt in this charming person.

Alfred walked out of sight, calling back over his shoulder, "Until next time, Arthur."

—

Spades was in trouble. Clubs was advancing: rumor had it that they intended to strike the Kingdom of Hearts. But without a Queen, Spades couldn't make a decision. In other Kingdoms, such as Diamonds and Clubs, the King was the most important figure- in Spades and Hearts, the Queen held a mysterious power, one that rivaled the King's. Without the Queen, the King was useless: in Spades, the two head monarchs had a special bond, and according to legends, if the King and Queen truly cultivated that bond, their power would be unsurpassable.

But, those were old wives' tales, and no one had ever known nor experienced a bond that powerful. Arthur, as he prepared to leave for work at the docks, tried to shake strange dreams from his thoughts when he heard a loud knock. No one ever visited his tiny shack: Arthur cautiously approached the door and opened.

Palace guards stood outside, gruff and official looking. One declared, "On decree of the King: let every citizen be thoroughly examined for the Queen's birthmark. We demand you give us entrance."

Hissing, Arthur attempted to slam the door shut, but the guards roughly slammed it open, flooding into his house. Two grabbed Arthur's shoulders, and another came around to his back, bending it forward slightly. Arthur lunged out with his foot, kicking the man behind him in the gut. With a satisfying gasp, the guard fell back, and Arthur swiftly twisted in the grasp of the other two guards, strong from his endless days working at the docks. But the palace guards were many, and one grabbed at his jaw from behind, pulling him backward.

Something in Arthur was triggered- maybe it was the fear of being touched without his consent- and something electric surged through him, something he'd never felt in his life. His eyes shot wide, and instantly, blue static exploded around him, shocking the guards and sending them flying backward.

The surge of electrical power left Arthur dizzy, struggling to stand, while all the guards around him groaned, limp on the ground. The door was still wide open- Arthur tried to focus on just who was walking through. He wore regal clothes, wore a crown- _it must be the King,_ Arthur thought, shakily backing away, hissing out, "Leave me! I-I'll shock you, too!"

"You're not afraid of me?"

"I'm not." Arthur curled his hands into fists, trying to clear his vision, shaking his head. He thought he saw the King advance, and a spike of adrenaline surged through him. He couldn't control the blue shockwaves shooting out from him, and the power sent him flying back against the wall. Crying out as his back hit the wall, Arthur slid to the floor, completely worn from the strange electricity coursing through him. He was left defenseless as the King neared, kneeling down beside him.

"Arthur."

The voice was suddenly all too familiar- his head snapped up, vision clearing as he made out none other than Alfred. His heart dropped in his chest, whispering, "It's you?"

He didn't answer, but opted to pull Arthur closer. Arthur tensed, but Alfred gripped his shoulder. "Don't do that. You'll hurt yourself."

"It's not like... I can stop, b-bastard," Arthur snapped, fingers shaking from over-exertion. Alfred was suddenly pulling up his tunic, slipping it above his head, fingers running along his back. Arthur's eyes shot wide open, and roughly shoved Alfred backward, leaning slightly forward. Their eyes locked- Alfred murmured, "It was you all along."

"W-What are you talking about?" Arthur shakily demanded.

"The birthmark," Alfred whispered, almost reverently. "You were the Queen all along."

—


	2. Coronation

The man, upon grasping the glowing blue tube, was instantly rocketed into some parallel universe of his memory. It rained dirt, smoke clouds billowed- wherever he was had just been completely devastated. Violet eyes wide, the man wildly looked around, eyes connecting with a tall man, one whom looked so familiar, yet could not be placed.

The stare off was broken when the man's head started to pound, and growling out, he sunk to the dirt on his knees, gripping his head. All he could hear was, " _This is payback for your sins."_

Breathing labored, the man dropped the tube, back in the forest he had awoken in. The snow had stopped, and all he knew from the vision was that this new, seemingly desolate world was a twisted purgatory.

He continued walking, having stuffed the glowing tube in the pocket of his cloak, and the snow picked up again, as if ushering him forward. Minutes faded into hours, until a faint glow caught his eye: feverishly glancing up, he saw a tiny, tiny village.

Trying not to break out into tears, the man ran, feet stirring up the thick snow, gathering attention from the poor people below. But, to the man's relief, they welcomed him, brought him into their arms, and ushered him into a warm cabin. They seemed awestruck, as if he'd been the answer to their prayers- the man didn't understand why.

"Who are you?" He asked in a hoarse voice.

A women, tending the fireplace, glanced at him. "We call ourselves _The Others_. We know not where we came from, nor why we are here." The words soothed him, yet stirred up infinite questions. At least they shared the same language: the man was reminded of the land that had been destroyed in his induced vision. Perhaps... these were the people who had lived there. Perhaps he had lived there, too.

A younger child, touching his knee, asked, "What is your name?"

It hadn't been something he'd thought about, but the name instantly fell from his lips as he replied, "Ivan Braginsky."

—

Arthur awoke with a start, eyes darting around the unfamiliar room. He sat up, glancing out the window- he saw a garden maze, a path leading to the town...

_I'm not in the town._

Before he could stand, the door opened, and in waltzed Alfred, a glass of water in his hand. "Good morning."

Arthur eyed him warily, accepting the water with no reply. They sat in silence once again, this one not as comfortable as the first time they had met, until Alfred started, "You're very powerful."

"I wasn't aware," Arthur bit back.

"Come with me," Alfred ordered, standing up. Arthur followed him to a mirror on the opposite side of the room- Alfred positioned Arthur with his back to the mirror. "Look behind you."

Doing as he was told, Arthur glanced over his shoulder into the mirror, and saw the black, intricate tattoo spanning across his upper back, right in between his shoulders. His eyes widened, and turning back to Alfred, he accused, "You did this to me! The night we met!"

As if the situation pleased him, Alfred chuckled. "I did nothing. You were simply chosen, my Queen."

Pushing Alfred out of the way, Arthur hissed, "I am _not_ your Queen." He gestured out the window, at the town below. " _That_ is where I belong!"

"You told me yourself that if you could change anything, you would end the war on Clubs." Alfred paused, holding his gaze. "You cannot argue with the birthmark. You _are_ my Queen. And now, if you would cooperate, you may finally have your wish."

They stared at each other from across the room. Arthur bit his lip. _There is no arguing with fate. If I have the birthmark... then so be it. But he is wrong in thinking I am his- I belong to no one._ Eyes narrowed, Arthur snarled, "I may be the Queen. But I will never be your Queen."

Alfred cooly watched him. "So be it. The coronation is this evening. In the meantime, our Jack, Yao, will try to quickly introduce you to things. Try your best not to get lost, sweetheart." With a smug smirk, he opened the door and stepped out. Bristling, Arthur clenched his fists, trying to control the embarrassed flush dusting his skin.

As Alfred stepped out the door, breathing out heavily, Yao leaned against the wall, remarking, "By the look on your face, I assume that didn't go well."

Raising his eyes, Alfred grumbled, "Good luck. He's... spirited."

Yao clicked his tongue. "I assume that's a euphemism? I've handled royals longer than you've lived. He won't be any different." Stepping into the room, Yao yelped and ducked down as a vase was hurled at his head. Standing up and briskly brushing off the non-existent dirt on his clothes, he snapped, "Sheesh! I'm not the King!"

Arthur glared right back. "You're the Jack. Is there any difference?"

Rolling his eyes, Yao muttered, "Fine. We'll do this the hard way." He brought his hands to the side, fingers flexing, and a yellow, flaming ball of energy materialized in between. He launched the fireball directly toward Arthur, who, on pure instinct, closed his eyes and crossed his arms in an x. Blue electricity, much like the strange static he'd used hours ago, surged from him, absorbing the ball on contact.

Yao shook out his hand, drawing closer. "I can utilize magic, like you. The King can't. There's a difference," He huffed, tossing his long hair over his shoulder. Arthur narrowed his eyes, the static disappearing from his figure. "Do you understand now?"

"What do you want?" Arthur avoided the question.

"To have your respect." Yao lifted his head. "Since I will be responsible for honing your abilities. Our King must have told you how powerful you are."

Crossing his arms, Arthur decided that he liked this Jack more than the King, however childish that was. "You're my teacher?"

Yao walked to his side, staring out the window. "What do you see down there?"

"My village."

"I will teach you how to protect them." Yao turned to him, golden eyes shining. "I will teach you how to carry yourself like a royal. I will teach you how to be the Queen of Spades."

Just as Arthur had felt familiar with Alfred, he thought he'd known Yao before. He allowed himself a soft smile, glancing at Yao. "I'm afraid I might not live up to your standards."

Yao shrugged. "Eh. They never do."

—

The castle was more massive than Arthur had imagined. He was sure he'd get lost as Yao briskly pointed out different rooms, corridors, hallways, and Arthur wondered if he'd ever learn the names of all the royals and servants that walked by, hurriedly preparing for his coronation. All manner of thoughts passed through his mind, the foremost being, _How the hell did this happen_ _?  
_

He had no more time to think as Yao ushered him into the fitting room, where the servants forced him in front of a mirror and started dressing him in the most fancy clothes Arthur had ever seen in his life. He held out his arms for the longest time as they fitted him, trying to be tough against the strain. Glancing at Yao, who was holding a clock and muttering about how they didn't have enough time, Arthur griped, "I can dress myself."

"I would hope so," Yao dismissively huffed. He walked over and shooed away the servants, claiming everything looked perfect. Arthur took the moment to gaze at himself in the mirror- _I don't belong in these rich clothes. I barely recognize myself._ The black Spades emblem was printed on the left side of his purple cloak, which almost touched the ground, tied in the middle of his chest with an absurdly large white bow.

Arthur's contemplating was interrupted as Yao grabbed his arm. "Come with me."

"Do I have a choice?"

The Jack didn't reply, dragging him out the door and down more halls. Arthur gazed up at the high ceiling, still in awe of the enormity of the palace, when a familiar voice chimed, "And you look stunning."

Whipping his head around, Arthur tried not to look as flustered as he felt. His eyes met Alfred's. Stubbornly, he clenched his jaw and grated out, "Thank you." _Bastard._

Yao sensed the tension and snapped his fingers, a motion that Arthur assumed meant, _follow me._ Alfred picked up on it, too, and followed the Jack, both monarchs trailing on his heels like confused puppies. "Straight after the coronation, we'll have a meeting to sort out just how we want to handle Clubs. Have either of you thought over your foreign policy? Maybe battle strategies? My King, you were once leading general of the Royal Spades military, so I'll pray that you have that settled."

Alfred coughed and glanced at Arthur, obviously trying to plead for help. Arthur glared back at him, hoping his look communicated: _I just got here, stupid!_

Yao turned around to face the two floundering monarchs, walking backwards. "Neither of you have the slightest idea?"

"We should advocate for peace," Arthur tentatively began, sparing a glance at Alfred. "Unless we are directly threatened or indirectly threatened through our allies."

Both were silent. Arthur awkwardly fiddled with his sleeves, hoping that he didn't sound stupid. A grin spread across the Jack's face. "You're the first monarch to ever mention peace." Looking to the King, he raised his eyebrows. "And you?"

Alfred's eyes met Arthur's, and he gave a sideways smile. "I agree completely."

"You two are unlike any monarchs I've served," Yao commented, turning around again. They stopped at the largest stone door Arthur had ever seen in his life. "I'll leave you here to discuss your plans. My King, I'll need you through those doors in an hour for the coronation." He walked away swiftly, leaving the two monarchs alone in the hallway.

"You know, you don't have to be so mean to me," Alfred commented, blue eyes boring into Arthur's.

"You don't have to be so arrogant," Arthur shot back.

Alfred smiled, running a hand through his hair. "We've know each other for a day, and you already assume I'm arrogant?"

"I don't assume. I know." Arthur's lips quirked. "Embellishment can uplift an ego sufficiently."

At that, Alfred laughed, the ridiculous laugh Arthur couldn't have forgot. "And even though you know I'm the King now, you still say such things?"

"Well, I couldn't lie." The banter was something Arthur wasn't used to, but enjoyed greatly. As insufferable the King was, he provided a sense of wit that Arthur couldn't help but appreciate. He felt himself smiling, staring up at the man, who just shook his head and grinned.

"So, when can I be accepted into your friend circle?" Alfred asked, circling around the shorter.

"At this rate, not until I'm dead."

"Come on." Alfred stopped pacing, and grabbed Arthur's hands, much like he did the night they first met, the night when Arthur's world was peaceful and just as it should be. "If we're partners, let's at least try to get along."

"Oh, so we're partners now? I thought I belonged to you."

"Possessive adjectives, article adjectives- I wasn't aware of how _demeaning_ they could be. My mistake," He chuckled sarcastically, still holding Arthur's hands in his. "Truce?"

Arthur rolled his eyes in an exaggerated display of irritation. Maybe the King was growing on him. "Fine. As long as you enlighten me on your so called ' _battle strategies_.'"

A hand slapped over Alfred's chest dramatically. "You wound me. I was general, for your information. Until I woke up and found that birthmark." He glanced away, almost pointedly. "I understand how you feel, being thrown into a position that you never wanted."

 _So, we both hate our roles. Fantastic, we'll be a swell monarchy._ "You were still nobility. It must not have been that much of a change," Arthur pressed.

"Maybe not," Alfred conceded. He bowed suddenly, to take his leave, and pressed his lips to the back of Arthur's hand. "Until tonight-"

"Arthur," The shorter broke in. "Please. Call me Arthur."

Alfred smiled, standing straight. "Only if you'll call me Alfred."

They watched each other in some sort of haze, until Arthur broke away with an embarrassed cough. Alfred walked out of the corridor, his boots clicking against the marble as he exited. Alone, Arthur felt almost vulnerable in the massive castle, and sighed out, trying to gather his thoughts.

—

Heart threatening to jump out of his chest, Arthur walked down the aisle to the altar, fanfare raining around him, flowers being thrown behind him. _What is this, a bloody wedding?_ He mused, trying not to glance around at all the commotion and reverent looks people gave him. The shock was now setting in- Arthur thought he might collapse. His responsibilities before had consisted of loading and unloading crates of supplies onto ships: overnight, he'd been thrust into the position of Queen. He had an entire _Kingdom_ to protect, and that Kingdom was on the brink of war with an insane, revenge-driven King of Clubs.

 _Breath,_ Arthur reminded himself as he approached the priest, kneeling down on the steps as the man spoke the sacramental Latin phrases that Arthur had to repeat and honestly had no idea what the hell he was saying. But it was over in what seemed like seconds, and there was a crown on his head, and people were repeating after the priest, _"Long reign Queen Arthur!"_ as he turned to face the large crowd who had gathered in the hall.

While the people celebrated for the second time that week, the monarchy gathered in the war room, sitting at a round table with all manner of advisors. Arthur was relatively silent, still trying to take the circumstances in and adjust to the heavy crown resting on his head, catching bits and pieces of conversation floating across the room. Arguments formed, and advisors were shouting at each other from across the room: it turned quickly into chaos. Bewildered, Arthur watched with wide eyes, when the person beside him slammed his fist down onto the table- it was Alfred, quieting everyone with a simple noise and an effective glare. The authoritative presence the King held was surprising to Arthur: his diagnosis of Alfred had been mild-mannered, goofy, able to hold his own in a debate, maybe a tad prideful.

"I may be the King, but I'm a general before that, and it's common knowledge that a Kingdom divided is weak," he stated, eying everyone cooly. "While we fight amongst each other, Clubs advances. For all we know, they could be ransacking our allies, and we're arguing here like sitting ducks! We are the greatest Kingdom in this land. But if we allow Clubs to take advantage of us, we _will_ loose that status. The Queen and I are aware of this." He spared a glance at Arthur, and asked, "Do you have something to contribute?"

 _No, you idiot!_ Arthur wanted to shriek as he stood from his seat. "If we are as great as you say we are, we should counterattack at once. I may not be a royal, but I have something that only commoners have, and that's common sense." He earned a few chuckles from that, and his confidence grew. "If we wish to preserve ourselves, then we must obliterate the ones who wish to destroy us, and we must do so with as much strength and finesse as possible to show we are not a Kingdom to trifle with."

Alfred was grinning, and said, "You already speak with the skill of royalty."

Arthur wasn't sure why that made him pleased, as he was still convinced he was a commoner, but words from an advisor drew his attention. "But we mustn't jump into battle without a plan, and the Queen is hardly familiar with _war._ This may all sound winning, and forgive me for speaking harshly, but you are both new to your positions, and you do not fully understand what responsibilities and consequences war can bring."

"I know full well the consequences war can bring." Alfred's eyes narrowed. "The birthmark chose us. I may be more familiar with war than the Queen is, but you have not seen with your own eyes his unbridled power."

"Power?" The advisor scoffed. "Power that is not properly honed by royalty is useless."

Arthur's temper got the best of him, and he growled, "I took out all of your _royally trained_ palace guards sent to molest me. Do tell, minister-" his hands supported him as he leaned over the table slightly, eyes narrowed- "am I still useless because I have not been _royally_ trained?"

Everyone was silent. The advisors looked among each other, then back at the Queen, who calmed and drew back from his threatening stance at the table. One spoke, looking to the King, "And you?"

"In the time the troops are assembled and trained, and spies have been sent out to track Clubs' movement, Yao and I will have the Queen prepared for war." Alfred stood straight, clapping his hands. "Meeting adjourned."

As the advisors started murmuring to each other and gathering their things, Arthur turned to the King, voice low. "I thought that would be _Yao's_ job. Not yours."

"Yao will teach you magic. I will teach you how to fight." Alfred smiled, as if trying to lighten the air. "And, I think they like us," he added sarcastically.

Scoffing, Arthur followed Alfred out of the room and down the long hall, their black boots echoing loudly against the marble floors. He opened his mouth to say something, when he caught Alfred's gaze, and instantly had some type of flashback. It was the same face, same eyes, same smile- in a different place, a place he was certain he had called home. Stumbling backwards, Arthur breathed out sharply, and felt Alfred's hand grip his arm, steadying him. "What's wrong?"

Arthur shook his head blearily, blinking rapidly. "N-Nothing. My mind must be playing tricks on me."

"You look pale," Alfred noted, still holding Arthur's arms. "But you must be overwhelmed."

Nodding, Arthur tried not to lean into the taller, instead opting to pull away. "I'll be fine. Just point me to my chambers, and I'll be on my way."

Laughing softly, Alfred murmured, "We _are_ the King and Queen, Arthur. We share a room, by design."

Arthur tried to beat down the embarrassed flush that crept up his neck, snapping, "Then, lead me there, for God's sake." Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Alfred continued down the hall, Arthur trailing quietly beside him. _Who is forced to share a bed with someone they barely even know? But, at least they aren't forcing me to actually... do something with him._ Those thoughts made him blush even more, and he prayed Alfred wouldn't turn around and notice.

Eventually, Alfred pushed open the door to their shared chamber, and pointed to the bed. "Go ahead and get comfortable. I'll be back." With that, he shut the door, and Arthur was left all alone in the spacious room. He couldn't believe that all this was his: a huge bed, the biggest bathtub he'd even seen, and the door leading out to the balcony showed the village, alight with celebration- the luxury was almost too much to take in. Arthur slid off his coat, folding it on a nearby chair, and searched through the dark room for something comfortable to sleep in. _And something decent,_ Arthur thought, _even though I hate sleeping with a shirt on._

There were only Alfred's sleep clothes in the drawers, to Arthur's dismay, but supposing he didn't have a choice, slipped on an over-sized shirt and grey sweatpants that fit better than he thought they would. Hoping that he would fall asleep before Alfred returned, Arthur tried to grow used to the ridiculous softness around and beneath him as he laid down.

Alfred walked in again with a glass of water in his hands, murmuring, "Are you asleep?" as he sat down, weighing down his side of the bed. Awkwardly, Arthur shifted, squeezing his eyes shut, and let a soft hum fall from his mouth in affirmation. Alfred leaned over him, and Arthur had half a mind to slap him at the close proximity- but, as he rolled around onto his back, about to snap at the King, he saw the glass of water he held out. Alfred was smiling, shadows accenting his face. "Drink. I told you, I know how you feel- this was what I wanted after the coronation."

Trying not to look desperate, Arthur took the glass and sat up ever so slowly, facing Alfred. "I assume you took our conversation to heart?" he teased, sipping the indeed refreshing water.

Alfred raised his eyebrows, grinning. "Already did. Now I'm just trying to get you to warm up to me."

Biting his lip, Arthur shot back for argument's sake, "You're not doing a very good job."

"Oh, really?" Alfred laughed. "Then what can I possibly do?" He laid down beside Arthur, making sure their legs didn't touch in the slightest, to Arthur's relief.

"Well," Arthur put a hand on his chin, "You could start by taking away the blasted tattoo on my back."

Turning on his side to face Arthur, Alfred hummed, "Nah. I don't think you really want that, anyway."

"How do you know what I want?"

Alfred shrugged, still smiling as he closed his eyes. "Because you're like me."

Arthur didn't agree with that, but was too tired to argue further. Turning around so that his back faced Alfred, he closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.

—


	3. Rising Storm

The tube was carefully preserved for years, hidden away, and as time passed, Ivan's civilization grew- but so did the outer world. New civilizations grew in the west: people who were reported as having a different, strange language, and this posed a threat. For as long as they could remember, the Others were alone in this world. Naturally, they grew fearful, and turned to the only solution available: choose a leader.

The decision was unanimous. Ivan was strong, kind, influential, everyone looked up to him- there was only one problem. He refused with every fiber of his existence. No one knew the reason why, not even Ivan himself: all he knew was that there was a strong urging in his soul to never, ever try and rule again.

And only one thing would tell him why.

After years, the tube was unearthed, in the dark of night, and it glowed its eerie blue once again.

—

Breakfast with royals was indeed terrifying, Arthur decided. He sat on Alfred's right, gazing wide-eyed at all the forks and spoons _and is that a spork?_ he mused, tentatively picking it up and twirling it around in between his fingers. Alfred noticed, and smirking, he leaned over, breath ghosting against Arthur's ear as he murmured, "Struggling, sweetheart?"

Arthur grew red, and hissed back, "Just help me, bastard."

"Use the fork-spoon thingy for now."

"It's called a spork, idiot."

Luckily, Arthur persevered through that trial without too much trouble. Although, reality still hugged his shoulders, making him doubt his every step- until Alfred, at noon, guided him outside into a training ring. He shrugged off his purple coat, peeking over at Alfred, who was doing the same, revealing muscled shoulders and arms-

Arthur quickly turned back around, inwardly berating himself as Alfred started, "You ever held a sword before, blondie?"

Clenching his jaw, Arthur bristled. "No," he gritted out, glaring at Alfred as he neared, holding out a sword. It appeared light, like a beginner's sword- the second Arthur took it in his hands, he nearly dropped the heavy weapon. Struggling to keep the sword upright, Arthur grunted, "Do you have anything... _lighter_?"

Alfred laughed. "That's the lightest."

Arthur's cheeks glowed red, and indignantly, he snapped, "Then teach me how to use it, bastard!"

Unsheathing his own sword, Alfred pointed his weapon at Arthur. "Attack me."

"What?" Arthur spluttered. "I can't!"

"Are you a child, or a man?"

His words incensed Arthur, so, acting on his impulse, Arthur swung at him, their swords clanging shrilly in the crisp afternoon air. Alfred grinned and parried back- Arthur blocked it with as much grace as he could muster. They danced around each other for hours, it seemed, and there was something that felt familiar to Arthur as he fought with the King. Hadn't he used a sword like this before? Why else would it feel natural to wield something of this nature?

Even if he had before, Alfred was infinitely better, and could knock Arthur off his feet with one strike. He was powerful, Arthur would grant him that.

This became routine: every day, either the King or the Jack would train Arthur, and as time passed, Arthur started to adjust. Although it was hard to handle snobby royals and advisors who looked down on him, Arthur looked forward to training with Yao, who taught him how to control his electrical magic, and (to his growing horror) Alfred.

As the summer came to an end, so did the spying on Clubs, who had, as rumor predicted, marched into the Kingdom of Hearts, preparing for war just on the outskirts of the land. The King of Hearts sent a request for backup to Spades, unsure if the new King and Queen would recognize their old status of allies: with Yao's advice, they agreed to help. Arthur became accustomed to the war room at this time, watching his King in awe as he mapped out battle strategies. And even though Arthur had never participated in such planning, Alfred involved him, asked him for his opinion, and Arthur slowly started to contribute.

There was one day when, walking through the end of the garden maze, Arthur spotted someone in the training rink, swinging two swords in his hands. Tip-toeing closer, Arthur recognized Alfred, and on further glance, Arthur realized he was shirtless, his clothes hanging over the wooden fence that surrounded the area. A hot flush crept up his neck, and gulping audibly, he couldn't help but gaze.

Alfred turned suddenly, eyes catching Arthur's, and grinned. "Impressed, are we?"

Bristling, Arthur stomped into the ring, grabbing one of the swords Alfred held, trying (and failing) not to look at his bare chest. "Not at all, _King,_ " he goaded, circling around the man (and _definitely_ not checking him out). "I was searching for all your faults."

"Ah. And did you actually find any?" Alfred shot back, eyes locked with Arthur's as he circled around.

There was the instantaneous clash of blades hitting the other in rapid succession. Arthur decided to start out on the offensive, convincing himself it would be satisfying to see the King's head roll. "Yes," he hissed as their swords pressed against each other, trying to make the other give out. "I found high levels of narcissism. You would be shocked, really."

Alfred won out, pushing Arthur backward slightly with sheer force, and jumping forward, their blades clashed once again. "It isn't narcissism if it's true," he laughed, driving Arthur into the corner, pinning him and his sword wielding hand against the fence. "I win-"

He was cut off as Arthur used the fence to his advantage, leaning backwards so he could lift his feet up off the ground and kick Alfred right in the gut. The King was cut off from his declaration of victory and effectively sent tumbling backwards, coughing and spluttering as Arthur righted himself. "Don't make assumptions," he taunted, lunging forward again. Alfred blocked his swing and countered, as Arthur tried to grit out, "It isn't true... if it's... narcissism!"

Alfred was laughing, genuinely by now, and shouted over the clash of swords, "That doesn't even make sense!"

Arthur cried out, "Of course it does!" but he was laughing just as hard as Alfred was, and reeled backward, holding his sword with one hand. Of course, Alfred took advantage of that, knocking the sword out of Arthur's hand which effectively sent Arthur to the ground on his back. He walked over to declare victory again, when Arthur's leg went swinging into his, bringing him down to the floor and knocking his breath away on contact with the dirt.

Both still laughing like idiots, Arthur tried wrestling the King to the ground, but Alfred grabbed his forearms and rolled them around. Yao, who had been reading a book nearby in peace, watched as the two rolled around in the dirt, back and forth, sure that their laughter could be heard in the top floor of the palace.

Alfred was stronger when it came to muscle, and pinned Arthur to the dirt, but just as he forced Arthur's hands above his head, the Queen shocked him with a ball of blue energy that sent him reeling backward. As Arthur jumped over him, pinning the King to the ground, Alfred shrieked and laughed at the same time, "That was a low blow!"

"I win," Arthur declared, unable to suppress a smile as he panted above Alfred, holding his shoulders down and sitting on him with a huff.

Alfred tried wiping the wetness from his eyes, still convulsing with laughter. Arthur was more or less in the same state as the king murmured, "Color me impressed."

"What? Didn't think I could win?" Arthur provoked, still hovering over Alfred.

"On the contrary," Alfred shot back, but there was no malice in his tone, and if Arthur looked any closer than he already was, he would see that Alfred's eyes were laced with unbridled affection.

—

Winter settled in, and the Kingdom of Spades geared its people for war. The journey to Hearts would take the army through the neutral Kingdom of Diamonds, and in order to avoid the main city, Arthur had cleverly advised they go through the mountains on the south side. With the heavily falling snow, their footsteps would be covered quickly, he rationalized, and they would not risk war with Diamonds.

Everything seemed in place as Alfred and Arthur prepared to set out, pulling hoods over their heads. Yao stopped them in the hallway, and like a fussing mother, gave them extra cloaks and provisions in a sack. "I promise to join you as soon as I think the advisors are fit to run the castle," he reassured, and searched both of their faces anxiously, as if trying to memorize them.

"What?" Alfred chuckled. Arthur tilted his head, echoing the King's question.

Yao looked slightly emotive as he snapped, "Nothing. Out of all the monarchs, I hate you both the most." Arthur had grown used to "Yao speak" by now. A rough translation of his words: _You two are my favorite King and Queen, even though I shouldn't feel attached to you, and I hope that you will return to the castle unharmed, and that we can live our life as a happy monarchy._

Opening the huge doors, Alfred and Arthur mounted their horses, and before riding out to the front of the vast army line, Arthur glanced back at the castle. _Don't fret, Yao. We'll return, and everything will return to normal._

—

Alfred and Arthur rode side by side as they started ascending the snowy mountain range, leading their horseback-riding troops into the freezing cold. Arthur winced, eyes narrowed as the wind stung his cheeks, and shivered, clutching a little tighter to his hood, when he felt something warm drape over his shoulders. Wide-eyed, he glanced over at Alfred, who had thrown one of the blankets Yao had packed them across Arthur's shoulders, but acted as if nothing had happened. Smiling to himself, Arthur tried to force his heart back down into his chest.

They eventually reached the top just as the sun began to set, casting final rays of light over the rest of the mountain range the army of Spades still had to traverse though. Arthur hadn't expected the range to be so drastically long, and felt anxious at how everyone would fare. Even though Spades' military was the strongest, the elements of the Kingdom of Diamonds could be enough to kill.

Men were instructed to hoist the tents, yellow domes that kept out the harsh wind, and though Arthur wanted to help, Alfred touched his shoulder, gently commanding, "Go ahead into our tent before you catch cold."

The side of Arthur that demanded warmth immediately took control, and Arthur nodded, slipping into the tent. He breathed a sigh of relief, and then felt guilty, because if he had still been a commoner, he would have been drafted into the army and made to pitch tents. His musing was interrupted by the King, who quickly slid in, zipping up the entrance before settling down beside Arthur. "I brought a map," he chattered, trying to warm up by blowing into his hands.

Arthur would forever blame the cold on his next move. He leaned over and took Alfred's hands in his own, rubbing them together. "I thought you were directionally challenged?"

"Eh, that's true. But you aren't. So, I decided to make you our official navigator," he stated, relaxing slightly, eyes catching Arthur's.

Rolling his eyes, Arthur huffed at the praise, "Whatever. Show me the map."

Alfred rummaged through his sack and pulled out the ripped, old thing, flattening it against the ground. "This is us," he pointed at the Kingdom of Spades, a little island on the far left of the map. "And this-" his finger dragged all the way across the paper- "is Clubs. Completely landlocked, only separated from the Kingdom of Hearts by a little river called the _Oder."_

Arthur tried to focus on the map, not on the proximity of Alfred's cheek to his. "And we're in Diamonds currently. Over this uncharted territory." He gestured to the region below the Kingdom of Diamonds that read ' _uncharted'._

_"_ I assumed earlier it would take us at least two days to reach Hearts."

Alfred's teeth were chattering- Arthur, trying not to be awkward, slipped the blanket from his shoulders over Alfred, looking away when Alfred's eyes focused on him. "It all depends on the weather, honestly. We're strong, and..." He tried to clear his throat without flushing, because Alfred's eyes were still on him. "...and..."

"And?" Alfred chuckled, still shivering.

Arthur turned away quickly, mumbling, "We're strong. But the elements are harsh. And I'm going to sleep." He snatched the blanket back from Alfred, berating himself that he'd even attempted to be nice to the bastard, and threw it over himself, making sure his face was buried and out of sight.

Except Alfred had different plans, and lifted the blanket, curling up next to him, their faces inches apart. Arthur reddened, reaching out to push Alfred away, but Alfred huffed, "I like this blanket. Either fight me for it or share it with me."

"You seemed all too willing to hand it out to me hours ago," Arthur bickered for bickery's sake.

"That was hours ago." Alfred smiled, and Arthur ducked his head, deciding that he was too cold to search for another blanket and it wasn't like Alfred was _that_ close to him, anyway.

—


	4. Expedition

Shouts awoke Alfred, and with a start, he realized Arthur was no longer beside him. He dressed quickly, wondering what was amiss with the troops: the moment he stepped foot outside and into the chilly mountain air, wrinkling his nose at the biting cold, he saw a good quarter of his troops all wolfing down watered down oatmeal with a certain Queen quite at home between all of them. If they were as bitterly cold as Alfred, it didn't show. They laughed jovially at Arthur's jokes, as if he were just like... _them._

Confused, Alfred watched the strange encounter between royalty and commoners, and after Arthur tipped his head back with genuine laughter, the King decided that Arthur was exactly what the Kingdom of Spades needed.

So, even though Alfred tried to hold back, he couldn't help but be overly-affectionate throughout the day. Arthur, however, didn't seem to notice, relatively quiet, riding beside him through the snowy mountainside. They came to a halt at the final peak, and Arthur pointed out at the horizon. "The Kingdom Of Hearts lays just beyond the horizon."

"We've made good time," Alfred commented, glancing at Arthur. The Queen opened his mouth to reply, when loud clamor sounded from the army behind them. Turning his horse quickly, Alfred readied himself to snap at the soldiers responsible for such a loud noise that could blow their cover in the Kingdom of Diamonds, but quickly shut his mouth at the sight of two distinctly brown horses galloping their way to the front of the line.

Alfred's hand flew immediately to his sword, shifting protectively in front of Arthur as the two foreigners came to a halt directly in front of the King and Queen. Upon closer look, these two men were not mere foreigners, but royalty. As Alfred opened his mouth to address whom he assumed was the King, he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. Glancing back, Alfred saw Arthur's eyes widen, staring directly at the King of Diamonds: the aforementioned stared just as dumbfounded at the Queen of Spades, who suddenly exclaimed, "Francis!"

"Arthur!"

They both dismounted, laughing incredulously, to everyone's confusion, and Arthur leapt into Francis's opened arms. Alfred's chest instantly dropped in livid jealousy.

"What... how... You're the King?" Arthur babbled as Francis let him go, hands on the Queen's shoulders, looking him up and down.

"I could say the same! You're a Queen, no?" Francis laughed, gesturing to Arthur's crown.

Alfred coughed, grabbing everyone's attention. "Arthur," he almost growled, "You... know him?"

"Know him? I lived with him since I was a child!" Arthur started. "Until he and his family moved to Diamonds-"

"And we haven't been in contact as of late. Ah, when our scouts spied foreigners in the Alps, I didn't expect you, my love!" Francis sighed, still gazing at his childhood friend. Alfred cringed at the term of endearment, eyes narrowed.

"We are joining our allies to unite against Clubs," Alfred interjected, clenching his teeth. "No harm was intended on Diamonds. We will continue peacefully-"

"Oh, non! Your soldiers are famished and cold from such treacherous elements. Come to Diamonds! We offer you food and shelter for as long as you need," The King offered, smiling. Alfred spared a glance at his troops, who all looked willing to take up Francis's offer, but still loyally faced their own King.

Sighing, Alfred started a battle he knew he'd already lost. "That's very kind of you, but-"

"Non! I will have no objections. Let your soldiers rest, my King. I am sure most have never seen Diamonds, non?"

Arthur's eyes caught Alfred's, obviously urging him to take the offer, tilting his head. Alfred sighed. "I... suppose that will be fine."

"My King," another voice sounded, "Are you sure? Diamonds is famished as it is, and with the addition-"

"Of course I am sure! Vash, we have plenty." Francis mounted his horse, glancing at Alfred and Arthur. "Forgive my Jack. He has been quite impudent since-"

"Shall we be leaving?" Vash interrupted with a pointed glare. Francis, ignoring his Jack, beckoned for Spades to follow him. Alfred glanced out at the horizon, anxious to arrive in Hearts and unsure of Francis's true intent.

—

Diamonds was, indeed, beautiful: trees dusted in snow, stone pathways intricately winding with each other, winter-thriving wildlife everywhere. Alfred uneasily watched Francis's back, as if waiting for him to whirl around and attack. He'd met the King of Diamonds only once, when he was a young general: sparks of hostility had raged through him even then.

All in all, Alfred felt increasingly uneasy as they neared the capital of Diamonds, catching sight of the magnificent outline of the palace looming in the distance. Overcast weather and bitter cold only reflected Alfred's emotions. Fingers tightening around taut reigns, Alfred spared a glance at Arthur, who happened to already be watching him.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked quietly, eyes burning into his.

Glancing away, Alfred didn't reply. Childish distrust made him ignore the Queen entirely- berating himself, Alfred mused, _He isn't conspiring with Francis. He is_ my _Queen, and is loyal to Spades. You saw the way he amiably talked with the men._

While he was musing, apparently Arthur grew agitated himself. Huffing, the Queen snapped, "Fine." He stubbornly flicked the reigns, riding farther up near Francis, who would be better company.

Alfred would have called out to him, but the city of Diamonds suddenly came into view, and grasped Alfred's attention completely. Turning to his soldiers, he muttered, "Keep sharp."

Villagers wandered out onto the strangely desolate streets, gazing in awe at the royal procession that marched by. Alfred assumed that the neutrality of Diamonds meant that the commoners had never seen the Spadian army before. They all appeared skinny, some gaunt- it was clear that Diamonds was struggling in the winter months. Still apprehensive, Alfred, eyes narrowed, glanced at Francis, who still led the strange procession.

Eventually, they reached the castle: Alfred decided that the sun probably reflected off the white marble and made it glow golden in sunlight. It was so unlike the castle in Spades, which was navy blue in color, arched like a gothic cathedral: Alfred felt a tinge of homesickness.

Francis escorted the King and Queen into the castle, throwing casual instructions back to his Jack to find housing for the Spadian army. Vash started to complain, but Francis obviously didn't care, leading his guests into the courtyard with a swish in his step. Alfred, sensing Arthur's stiffness (probably still upset with Alfred ignoring him), leaned down close to Arthur's ear and muttered, "Exhibitionist."

Arthur's lips quirked up, and even though he didn't look at Alfred in the slightest, Alfred could feel the tension fade away. Curiously, he wondered when he had so desperately pined for forgiveness in his entire life.

Francis turned elegantly, searching the King and Queen up and down. "You are both either ridiculously lucky or very _unlucky,"_ He started, clicking his tongue as Alfred's hand drifted down toward his sword. "I wouldn't suggest doing that."

"What do you mean?" Arthur demanded more than asked.

"Both of you are naïve. Rushing into war with Clubs, marching through a neutral country in a pitiful attempt at secrecy..." Francis chuckled, amused. "But I like your spirit. And I suppose I'll let this unprecedented visit slide, since you are taking out a powerful enemy."

"You are neutral," Alfred shot back. "It is unwise to call Clubs your enemy."

"Foolish boy. My Kingdom maintains neutrality in war. Anyone who declares war is our enemy."

"We are your enemy?"

"You fight so that the balance of power is equal. Clubs declared war for conquest."

Alfred fell silent, watching Francis intently. His bright orange clothes and crown so drastically contrasted Alfred and Arthur's blue and purple. "Are you allied with us, then?"

"Perhaps," Francis slowly, carefully conceded, a thoughtful expression on his face as he turned around again. "Now, come. You must eat! Everyone knows food from Diamonds is the most excellent."

As much as Alfred hated to admit it, the food _was_ spectacular. Even stubborn Arthur didn't complain, sitting between Alfred and a royal of Diamonds who chatted his ear off. Still curious about Arthur's relation to Francis, Alfred turned in his seat toward the King on his other side, at the head of the table. "Tell me of when you met Arthur," he started, eyes locking with Francis's as if challenging him.

"Jealous, are we?" Francis noted, smirking as Alfred growled. "Fine, fine. I was born in Spades, in the same district as Arthur."

"Devon?"

Surprised, Francis nodded. "Do you and Arthur discuss such personal matters?"

"Of course. Didn't you ask your Queen where he or she was born?"

Francis's eyes darkened instantly, and Alfred assumed he'd hit a nerve, even if he didn't know why. "The relation between the King and Queen is a purely platonic partnership," he explained, voice hushed. "I would expect Spades of all countries to acknowledge that fact. To answer your question, Diamonds has been without a Queen for two years."

Alfred didn't reply. Francis shook his head and continued, "I met Arthur by the ocean. He was angry over something I fail to remember- perhaps it was about his hair. He tried to hit me."

"Sounds like Arthur."

Francis chuckled, the mood light once again. "Indeed. Every day, I met with him on that dock, until he finally accepted that I wasn't going to leave him alone. We became close quickly: I don't believe he had anyone else. He always seemed lonely." Alfred listened closely, rapt with interest. "By the time we were both teenagers, I could easily detect him in a crowd of hundreds: you see, he was quite rowdy, and always wanted to disturb the peace. We were both poor, and by this time on our own from the orphanage, and so we devised plots to steal bread from the market-"

"Orphanage?"

"Yes. I was adopted eventually. Arthur..." he trailed off, searching for the right words. "Arthur was less fortunate."

Deciding to avoid what seemed touchy, Alfred murmured, "And then your family moved."

"They didn't tell me until the day of. I walked into an empty house." He smiled reminiscently. "They told me I had a measly minute to tell Arthur. He hit me when I told him- he thought I'd been keeping it a secret. I think we both knew we'd never see each other again."

Francis ended with a soft sigh, glancing at Arthur. Alfred did likewise. "And now he is the Queen of Spades. No longer the troublesome boy I once knew."

"Did you love him?"

"I did."

"Do you still love him?"

Francis didn't answer.

—

Morning came, overcast as previously. Arthur walked through the courtyard with Francis, awaiting Alfred to join them. The flowers were bright, the hedges not as properly trimmed as they were in Spades. It suited Diamonds, Arthur decided.

"Is your King always so late?"

Arthur huffed. "He claims his 'internal clock' lost a screw. I tend to agree."

Laughing, Francis drew closer. "And are you happy, being his Queen?"

The sun peeked out from behind the clouds for a short moment, highlighting the edges of Francis's face. Arthur sensed a hidden question behind his original words. "I am, if you must know."

"You would not trade it for anything?"

Arthur considered his words, glancing out at the expanse of Francis's Kingdom, and replied quietly, "It's quite taxing, but I don't think I'd adjust adequately if I became a simpler commoner again, working down at the docks. I feel-"

"Important."

Arthur didn't reply. Francis opened his mouth to continue, but was interrupted by boots clicking against stone and Alfred's voice. "We thank you for your hospitality, Francis. But we must take our leave. Spies from Hearts have spotted Clubs advancing and plead for our reinforcements."

Francis looked disappointed, but nodded. "By all means." They shared a look of understanding; Alfred glanced once at Arthur, and then walked out.

"I suppose I should go with him," Arthur hinted, eyes catching Francis's. He saw the face of a young man burdened with stress, stress and longing. He reached out, cupping Arthur's cheek in his hand, thumb brushing against his skin.

"You could stay," he offered. "You could be my Queen."

Closing his eyes, Arthur willed away the burn, clenching his jaw and placing his hand on Francis's. "You always have to leave me upset, don't you?"

"Likewise," Francis countered.

"You know I can't."

With a last longing gaze, Francis dropped his hand, smiling. "I'll see you again, my love." He turned, the bright orange he'd been wearing appearing dull, and left like he always did.

—

The Royal Army of Spades cleared out of the Kingdom of Diamonds without further dispute. Alfred, relieved to be out of uncomfortable territory, sighed out contentedly as they reached the border of the Kingdom of Hearts. They waded through a shallow river, making way into the heavily forested Hearts, when the faint sound of trumpets blaring caught everyone's attention.

Alfred sent a scout ahead, just to be sure- while waiting, Arthur asked quietly, "What if Clubs has taken control?"

"Hearts can not fall easily," Alfred started, his horse close to Arthur's. "I am a close acquaintance of the King. He is strong."

"That's called a friend, Your Highness," Arthur sarcastically observed.

The scout returned, hair wildly whipping around his face, and hurriedly stated, "We are needed immediately. Clubs intends to advance tomorrow at dawn- the King of Hearts is conscripting men into the army, even in small villages as this."

"Do you know what district this is?" Alfred asked. The scout shook his head. Swiftly, Alfred turned to his soldiers, about to ask once more, when Arthur replied, "Blenheim."

"What?"

"We are in Blenheim."

There was no time to question his knowledge. Alfred gestured for the Royal Army to follow him quickly, and galloped into the deep forest of Hearts, searching for the village. It was close, as the scout had said, and past all the shacks and rotting cabins of the poor town, Alfred spotted a small gathering in the center of the town.

Raising the Spadian flag high, Alfred led his army into the town, gathering the attention of the citizens, slowing to a halt at the edge of the clearing. He and Arthur dismounted, quickly walking into the crowd- Alfred tried not to stare at the terrible condition these people were in, cold and shivering and half-naked.

Ludwig had been reading a decree, most likely drafting these poor, sick villagers into the army out of fear that Clubs would outmatch him in number if Spades didn't arrive soon. He stepped off the slight platform he'd been speaking on, the Queen and Jack following suit. Alfred smiled, offered his hand, and Ludwig took it firmly, relief clear in his eyes.

"We feared the worst," Ludwig began. Alfred could see the exhaustion in his face, hear it in his voice. "Clubs draws close, and I anticipated you would not make it in time."

"I apologize. We were sidetracked in Diamonds for a short period." Alfred moved slightly to the side, gesturing to the Queen who stood behind him. "You have not had the pleasure of meeting our new Queen."

Arthur took Ludwig's hand firmly- Alfred felt pleased as Ludwig greeted him warmly. "News spread quickly concerning the new monarchy over the last months. I hear you are quite well-versed?"

Arthur smiled. "I learned quickly."

Ludwig gestured behind him. "Kiku, my Queen, takes to Literature as you." He slightly turned, and Arthur shook hands with someone who was actually, finally his size.

"I've heard much about you," Kiku started. "It is nice to finally have a male Queen as I who shares interests."

Before Arthur could reply, Ludwig continued, "And our newest edition." He grimaced slightly, pointing to their Jack, who didn't leave his King's side, but waved amicably.

"Our Jack is en route," Alfred explained. "He is securing leadership among the advisors."

"Understood. We will need to sign the documents immediately at the Palace. I trust you are ready?"

Alfred nodded. As he and Arthur mounted their horses, Ludwig turned to the village and announced, "On appearance of the Royal Army of Spades, this document is null and void. _Vorwarts, Germania!"_

The people cheered, and though there was not a multitude, Alfred thought it was one of the most satisfying sounds. Ludwig and his cortège of monarchy and guards headed the large procession, leading them through the dense, snowy forest of Hearts.

Arthur rode beside Alfred quietly for most of the trip, his hood covering his face from Alfred. Glancing over at the Queen, Alfred asked, "How did you know the village name?"

Arthur turned to the King, replying simply, "I've been there once."

"You told me yourself you'd never left Spades once," Alfred pointed out, ready to continue, when Arthur interrupted.

"And you are right," he conceded, smiling slightly. "But I have been in Blenheim before. I can not explain it, for I do not understand myself."

Alfred silently observed him for a moment, then turned back to sifting through his thoughts. He found himself unable to dwell on them any longer.

The capital city of Hearts eventually arose close ahead. A year had passed since Alfred had last travelled down the streets of Hearts, and observing how much the capital city had changed since then was astounding. Commoners ran to and fro, shouting frantically, buying frantically, selling frantically- all signs of the closely looming war. The stone streets had cracked, unpaved since last winter- Alfred compared Hearts to Diamonds and felt that there wasn't much difference.

The Palace of Hearts, usually a lovely place, looked somber under the winter clouds. Inside, most halls and rooms were dark, shadowed- electricity was being conserved as well. Kiku, after the long and weighty discussion in the war conference room, led Alfred and Arthur to their room, and after warning of the electricity rule (lights needed to stay off) wished them a good night.

Turning to the bed, which was rather small for two people, Alfred fell onto his back over the sheets, exhaustedly staring up at the ceiling. "I feel as if too much has happened over a course of two days."

Arthur hummed, striding to the opposite corner of the room, back to Alfred as he shed his coat. Before he could stop himself, Alfred's eyes roved over the Queen's entire form as he undressed, an emotion he'd told himself he'd never feel before running through him like a chill.

 _Easy there,_ he warned himself, shedding his own coat and flannel and sliding quickly into the soft bed. "There's something I like about sleeping in new beds," he murmured, covering his eyes with his hands tiredly. The bed dipped beside him as Arthur settled next to him, again humming in acknowledgement. The need to ask more questions persisted in Alfred's head, and the one at the top of his mind was going to force itself out. Turning onto his side, Alfred faced Arthur, asking bluntly, "Were you and the King of Diamonds ever sexually involved?"

He regretted his words as soon as they came out. Arthur blushed, beat red, in embarrassment: mortified, Alfred stuttered, trying to reword his question so that he didn't sound like a needy, jealous teenager. Arthur drew the covers up close to his face, as if trying to hide his face as he coughed out, "Heavens, no. No, no, _no,_ not ever." The humiliated rambling suddenly turned into an accusation. "Do you think I whore myself out to the public, you bastard? Why the hell would you even ask me that?"

"You're a virgin?" Alfred asked incredulously, instantly regretting _again_ his hasty, awkward words as Arthur's cheeks continued to burn and both wallowed in humiliation.

"I... well... that is to say..." Arthur skirted the question, stammering endearingly. The roundabout answer was a clear affirmation to Alfred's second question.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that," Alfred quickly muttered, hoping he wasn't reddening himself. Arthur refused to look at him. "Francis was telling me about your childhood."

"Of course he was," Arthur snapped.

"I was an orphan, too."

The mood changed from embarrassing to somber in the room instantly. Arthur's anger dissipated into a look of compassion and uncertainty all in one as he asked, "Were you ever adopted?"

"No." Alfred tried a tentative smile and shifted closer to Arthur. "I wasn't."

They quietly observed each other for a long moment, until Alfred laughed softly, reaching out to touch Arthur's forearm. "This is a horrible way to catch up."

Arthur laughed as well- Alfred caught himself taking note on how Arthur's nose scrunched when he did so. "Your questions are most vile and cruel," he huffed, smiling. He didn't shy away from the contact, nor when their feet brushed. Alfred felt his own smile grow wider, and decided it had all been worth it.

"I already apologized. What more do you want?"

"Kiss my ass," Arthur shot back, his voice lilting into a momentary commoner accent. Alfred could barely restrain a nervous laugh at the implications. "If you're serious, then give me a back rub."

"Anything for my Queen," Alfred complied in an overly-noble tone. Arthur threw a pillow at his face. Alfred caught it right in front of his nose, and as he lowered it, another item was thrown at his face- Arthur's white undershirt. It took Alfred a few seconds to process that new feeling in the pit of his stomach as Arthur rolled onto his stomach, back exposed for Alfred to massage.

Alfred swallowed, hopefully not audibly, and settled close beside Arthur, who arched up as Alfred ran a cold fingertip between his shoulder blades. "Don't you dare tease me," he gritted out, burying his head in his arms.

 _Ah,_ Alfred realized, as his callused hands gripped Arthur's shoulders and massaged firmly. _He finally trusts me._


	5. Confrontation

In the shadow of night, two men snuck through the chilly forest of Hearts, swiftly arriving at a camp on the border. There, they bowed at the foot of their King, just outside his tent. "We have news from Hearts. Spades has arrived."

Wordlessly, the King stared out at something they did not have the capacity to see. Taking his silence as means to continue, one whispered, "The new monarchy of Spades has joined forces with Hearts, my King."

His King turned, violet eyes narrowed, white and silver coat grazing the snow, and murmured, "Good."

—

Yao arrived in the dawn, earlier than Alfred and Arthur had expected, and like usual, wherever he walked, his monarchy followed behind him like eager puppies. "And how was your trip?" Alfred started.

Apparently, Yao was not a morning person. "Seeing your faces in this bitter weather made me want to puke." _Translation: I am overjoyed to see you, even though I hate this weather, and my trip was less than pleasant._

"Have you discussed our strategies with Ludwig yet?"

"Why must you _follow_ me everywhere? Are you not adults?" _Translation: I am on my way to see him now, and I am glad you are accompanying me._

Arthur opened the door for him, receiving an irritated huff as thanks, and the full monarchy of Spades walked into the palace's conference room. They sat at one end of the round wooden table, Hearts at the other.

"You are late," Ludwig observed. "It must be a Spadian tradition."

At least Yao was zealous to defend his beloved monarchs. "They were greeting me, not loitering. If you are concerned about our punctuality, then by all means, let us start." He leaned back in his seat, gesturing to the table for someone to rattle off their strategies.

If Ludwig was perturbed concerning Yao's insolence, he didn't voice it. "We discussed splitting up."

Kiku pointed to the map spread out on the middle of the table. "Hearts is divided from Clubs by a river. If we divide the army of Hearts into two sections, we could cross the river and attack from the north and south side."

"But risk them splitting into two groups?" Yao's brow furrowed.

"That's where Spades comes in," Ludwig stated. "If Clubs is wise, they'd split into two groups, thinking they could finish us off without realizing that they leave the center open. You'd lead your army across the middle of the river, into that exposed center, and attack both groups-"

"Pinning them in," Arthur finished, glancing at Yao. "And we secure victory easily."

"Correct."

Yao frowned. "You all underestimate Clubs. Although I have never met the King, he is sly and cunning, and will not fall easily into your traps."

"But can he withstand our numbers? We surely outnumber Clubs," Feliciano, the Jack, spoke up.

"It's a chance we'll have to take," Alfred said.

Everyone fell silent. Yao opened his mouth to speak, when the door was slammed open by a guard, startling everyone. He panted, "Clubs is preparing to cross the river!"

Ludwig stood swiftly, his chair falling to the ground. No one paid notice. "We can't let them cross-"

"Then we intercept them _now,_ " Yao demanded, briskly walking out of the room. Alfred and Arthur raced after him, the monarchy of Hearts following. Luckily, as they emerged outside, Ludwig's troops were already waiting, and mounting his horse, Ludwig took off, the thundering of hooves following him. Alfred looked to Yao with wide eyes. "Do you know where our army is?"

Yao furiously snapped, " _I_ just _arrived_ here, imbecile! That's your job-"

He was interrupted by Arthur, who tugged on both of their wrists, dragging them to the castle stables. Before either could question him, they saw the army of Spades, all assembled and waiting, even their own horses. Alfred turned, slack jawed, to Arthur. "How... how did you...?"

Shrugging, Arthur replied, "I woke up early, and assumed it'd be wise to make sure they were ready." He smirked and prepared to mount his horse, Alfred following swiftly behind, but paused as his gaze fell on The Queen and Jack of Hearts, who apparently hadn't followed their King.

"Do you need horses?" Alfred offered, brow furrowed.

Kiku shook his head, a polite smile on his face. "We are not allowed to fight, only the King. Are you not aware of the law?" Feliciano fiddled nervously beside him.

Arthur glanced at Alfred, then at Yao, who looked uncertain and almost guilty. "Law?"

Yao walked closer to the King and Queen. "I abolished it in Spades after the death of the King. You have the right to restore it." His voice quieted, a tense air between the three as Arthur stared at Alfred, eyes searching.

Snapping the tension, Alfred said determinedly, "We fight together." He held his hand out for affirmation- Arthur clasped it immediately, a pleased expression on his face. Yao followed, and Alfred, glancing at their hands unified in agreement, thought, _This is the coolest thing that has_ ever _happened to me, hands down._

They mounted their horses, and with a final wave to Kiku and Feliciano, Alfred led his people after Ludwig into war. Exhilaration made his heart leap furiously as they caught up to the army of Hearts: even though he had faced war before, knowledge of what laid ahead never ceased to make him nervous.

The army of Hearts stopped abruptly- Alfred called his soldiers to a halt and rode up beside the King. "What's wrong?" Ludwig pointed ahead, eyes narrowed. Alfred caught sight of Clubs wading through the river, some already on the bank, including the King. Alfred gazed at him, brow furrowing. _I know him._

 _"_ Our plan is foiled unless we can drive them back, yet we can't charge blindly out into the open."

"I have an idea," Arthur hissed, reigning his horse back as he approached the two Kings. Ludwig looked surprised, glancing indignantly at Alfred.

"Why is he here? The law-"

Alfred opened his mouth to reply- Arthur beat him to the punch. "Do not tell my King how to run his Kingdom." His caustic words left Ludwig silenced: Alfred felt his heart swell despite the imminent threat. "They know not that we are here. We can't risk revealing ourselves, so we ambush them. Let them come into the forest of Hearts- we have the advantage."

"How do you suggest concealing ourselves?" Ludwig shot back.

"The trees." Alfred gestured above them. "Like Arthur said, we have the advantage. Hearts knows this territory better than anyone."

"But we must do away with the horses. We might have the element of surprise, but we will loose our height."

"That won't be necessary," Yao intervened, riding up beside Arthur. "Split the armies. Spades is at a disadvantage as much as Clubs is- this isn't our land, and we sure as hell can't fight from the trees. We will take the horses and circle around."

Frowning doubtfully, Ludwig asked, "Circle around?"

"To the clearing. If you can drive Clubs out of the forest and back into the clearing, we'll be waiting- they'll be pinned in from both sides. Then we can battle them back to the river, and hope for a surrender." Yao glared at Ludwig, chin high. The King of Hearts silently observed them, eyes narrowed.

"Fine," he conceded. Dismounting, Ludwig handed his reigns over to Alfred and turned to his troops, commanding them do the same. As they began to climb into the trees, The King of Hearts turned to the monarchy of Spades for a short moment, and with a slight nod, ascended into the nearest spruce tree.

Honestly, there was no time to rethink or plot extensively- Clubs was closing in quickly. Alfred clicked his tongue, motioning his army to follow, racing out of the woods. Before he could become lost in thought, Arthur rode alongside him, shouting over the thunder of hoofbeats, "We can't just lead the extra horses into battle- it would be a lost cause. Let me take the men with Hearts' horses and leave them at the castle. We'll rejoin you at the clearing as soon as possible."

It made sense. The extra horses would either get in the way or be taken over by Clubs. Yet, Alfred didn't like losing at least half of his army, including his Queen. They approached a fork in the road, which meant Alfred had to make a hasty decision. "Be quick," he called back. Arthur smiled and took off in the other direction, Alfred yelling for men with extra horses to follow the Queen, and led his section of men down the opposite road.

Once they circled around completely, Alfred led his army to the clearing, hoping that Ludwig had driven Clubs out of the forest. Hearts had driven back Clubs sufficiently, in position for Spades to intercept them and send them reeling toward the river. Turning to his army, Alfred raised his fist, and with a loud cry, the army of Spades rode into battle.

Blades and bodies clashed- screeches of fury and howls of agony echoed in the air. Alfred's horse, spooked, reared up and sent Alfred to the ground. Whirling around, heartbeat audible in his ears, the King of Spades viciously fought, sweat dripping down his forehead, every move seeming fast-forwarded, like a jump through time.

Snow started to fall, and what had already fallen lay tainted with blood- as Alfred felled enemy after enemy, someone backed into him. Startled, he whipped around, face to face with Ludwig, blood that was not his own smeared across his face. Before they could speak, however, another cry rang out- the other section of the Spades army had arrived, reinforcing Hearts and Spades. Energized by the new wave of soldiers, Alfred fought with renewed vigor, and eventually, Clubs fell back drastically. As planned, Clubs fled across the river: an exuberant cheer rose among the army of both Hearts and Spades.

Yet something seemed... off.

 _That was too easy,_ Alfred mused nervously, eyes narrowed as he watched Clubs disappear into the woods on the other side of the river. Yao, who had lost his horse also during battle, raced up to his side, panting, "If you think that was it, you are foolish. Clubs does not give up easily, and we have yet to see Ivan."

"The King," Alfred murmured absently, thoughts racing. Realization of the absence of a certain Queen dawned on him all too quickly, and spinning around, he yelled, "Where is Arthur?"

One of the soldiers who had been in Arthur's section stepped forward. "He told us, about halfway through the forest, that he saw someone, and to keep going while he checked it out."

Yao's gaze met Alfred's- the same horrifying thing passed through each of their brains. Yao snapped into action immediately, shouting, "We need horses, _now_!" Promptly, two soldiers willingly gave theirs over- Alfred, as he mounted, asked the previous soldier he had addressed, "Where was this?"

"Upstream about 20 strides or two-"

Alfred cut him off with a hasty thanks and followed Yao, willing his horse to move faster. Yao hollered over the thunder of hooves, "Ivan is tricky, Alfred. He fights in a way that will mess with your mind. You and I have taught Arthur well, but Ivan plays by different rules."

Sparing a glance at Yao, Alfred observed a man that _knew_ , firsthand, Ivan, even though he denied ever meeting the King of Clubs. Yao could cover up his feelings well with words, but his emotions eventually betrayed him. "I won't let him get to my mind."

"If he has gotten to Arthur's mind, he will get to yours through him," Yao solemnly replied. Alfred didn't understand, and found that he didn't _want_ to understand such grim words.

—

Arthur slowed his horse to a walk after breaking from his section of the army, eyes narrowed as he searched the forest for the flash of a cape, the quick twinkle of jewels that he had surely spotted before. Afraid that the horse would give his position away, the Queen quietly dismounted, snow crunching beneath his black boots.

Warily, he stepped through the forest, eyes searching the branches above, but nothing lunged out at him like he expected. Eerie silence only piqued nervousness, anxiousness: halting completely, Arthur slowly slid his sword out from his scabbard beneath his purple cape. Circling, his ears started to ring, a high-pitched whine that only petrified him more- and then, behind him, a sickly pleasant voice snapped the tension and silence.

"Are you lost, my Queen?"

Arthur whirled around, and with a ferocious snarl, generated a large blue orb of electricity in his hand, hurling it at the King. Mildly surprised, the man dodged neatly, and with a drastic fling of his hand, a green ball of flame flew toward Arthur, who threw another orb of electricity- on contact, the powerful magic exploded, canceling each other out. The smoke cleared, and Ivan faced Arthur, swords in hand. "Surprising," Ivan praised. "Just as strong as I remember. Perhaps stronger."

"Shut up," Arthur growled.

"And apparently just as brash. You will not understand that I am not your enemy."

"You," Arthur snarled, " _Are_ my enemy."

Ivan laughed, and both started circling around each other, a twisted sort of dance. "What lies have you been fed?"

"Power hungry is all you are. You declare war simply for conquest-"

Interrupting with an indignant snort, Ivan said, "Is that what the King of Diamonds told you? Ah, he has always thought that way. Everyone of this generation thinks that way. Foolishly, they have forgotten all that came before this world. I do not seek land, dear Queen." His eyes grew cold. "I seek revenge."

Jostled by his strange words, Arthur attempted to hide his fear. "You cannot trick me. There is no world but this."

"Ah, but the windows of your soul tell otherwise." Almost nostalgically, Ivan continued, "Your eyes, even back then, always revealed your true emotions. You doubt yourself."

"You are vermin," Arthur hissed, voice shaking slightly.

"I am not, and you know that. All of you know the reason why I fight is just, and yet you choose not to remember. I am fighting for you, Arthur. For all of us." Reaching into his pocket, Ivan tossed a small tube to the snowy ground, rolling near Arthur's feet. "Are you curious? Do you want to know why I want revenge?" Arthur didn't reply. "Touch it. Touch it and you will remember as I did."

Emerald eyes were drawn to the strange glowing tube- Arthur could easily bend down, pick it up, possess the knowledge Ivan had.

_No. He's playing with you._

Arthur gripped his sword tight, and with an angry, shrill cry, launched himself at the King. Blades clashed rapidly as Ivan countered, sending Arthur reeling back with sheer force. But as strong as Ivan was, Arthur was agile: he easily recovered, dodging Ivan's heavy blade, and swung at him again. The strike of swords resonated through the otherwise silent forest, neither sides relenting, until Arthur managed to slash Ivan's forearm, a deep cut that seeped blood instantly: yet, just as his eyes darted to the wound, Ivan, with a swift hand, slashed Arthur from hip to chest.

Gasping out, Arthur stumbled backwards, sword still held out at Ivan threateningly as he tried to recover, adrenaline kicking in and masking the pain. Ivan simply watched, and with a regretful expression, murmured, "My fight does not lay with you, Arthur."

"You made your fight against me the moment you declared war on Spades," Arthur panted out, eyes narrowed.

Shrugging, Ivan tossed his sword into the snow. "I will not fight you."

"Coward!" Arthur spat. He lunged wildly at Ivan, barely nicking his upper thigh. Wincing, Ivan roughly dodged and wrestled the sword out of Arthur's hands, and with a clatter, it fell to the snow alongside his own. Arthur threw a punch, connecting firmly with Ivan's jaw and sending his head reeling to the side, but before he could repeat, the King caught his fist, and just as he sent Arthur backwards into the snow, the ground reverberated with the sound of horses.

Ivan murmured, "Well, well. It would seem I have stalled long enough." With a sickly pleasant farewell, he picked up the strange object he had tossed at Arthur and disappeared into the forest.

Arthur's eyes widened: realization dawned on him. _He's been playing for time._ Struggling into a sitting position, Arthur lost his train of thought, hunching over, chest seemingly on fire, and cried out at the pain. Alfred was suddenly jumping off his horse, kneeling beside him, asking, "Arthur? Are you okay?"

Gaze blurring, Arthur gripped Alfred's forearm to steady himself. "Ivan... Ivan's been stalling. There must be another wave coming."

Alfred looked up at Yao, who dismounted with much more finesse than the King. "How could he be stalling by fighting you?"

"Because he knew that you'd come for me," Arthur replied quietly. "You must return. His whole plan was to lure you away from the army."

"We can't leave him here," Alfred said. "He's wounded."

"I'm coming with you!" Arthur indignantly opposed. His outburst drew a sympathetic look from Alfred and a roll of the eyes from Yao.

"Don't be stupid. He and I will return to Hearts." Yao strode forward, he and Alfred both supporting Arthur as they settled him on Yao's horse. As soon as he was situated (against his will), Yao turned to Alfred, quietly murmuring, "If what Arthur said is true, then you must remember my words. Ivan will do anything he can to win. Know that."

Nodding, Alfred mounted his own horse, eyes catching Arthur's. There was too much that he wanted to voice- yet nothing would come out. The King took off, racing back to his army, praying that he didn't return to a massacre.

—

_"He's been asleep for a couple hours. No, no, It's routine, don't worry. I'll return soon."_

Fragments of words filtered in through Arthur's mind, awaking him from sleep. Blinking, he tried to keep his eyes open long enough to focus on at least where he was, yet found that the task was too hard, and drifted off again, strange shards of memories, of words, racing through the darkness. Everything was jumbled, as if on fast-forward.

"Arthur?"

That simple word pulled him out of his strange dream. Alfred hovered over him, blue eyes searching his. Groggily, Arthur replied, "Alfred?"

"You've been out for awhile."

"How cliche," Arthur huffed softly. Alfred gave an amused, soft laugh.

"We won," he murmured, but lacked the exuberance Arthur had expected. Tentatively, Arthur slid his hand over Alfred's, as if to comfort him, however ineffective and trivial it seemed. Alfred didn't move away. "But our losses were great. Clubs had a second wave attack, as you expected. We eventually drove them back, but Ivan never appeared. Only to you did he expose himself." Frowning, Alfred's eyes shone with uncertainty. "Yao is as clueless as I am over why."

Arthur remembered the encounter, remembered Ivan's strange words. "Do you remember the old wives' tales in Spades? They always rumored that Ivan sought revenge over a past grievance. When I accused him of only fighting for conquest, he laughed, and said..." Arthur trailed off, swallowing. "He said that he fought for revenge."

"Revenge against Spades?" Alfred questioned softly. "What does he wish to accomplish by that?"

"He wouldn't even fight me. I had to attack him." Arthur's eyes searched Alfred's, searched for answers. "He kept claiming he was my ally. That we... were friends."

Alfred pondered this, and looked away for a moment. "You have never met him before?"

"Not once, as far as I can remember."

The King's eyes burned intensely into Arthur's when he looked back. "Did he say anything else?"

Arthur opened his mouth to tell Alfred about the strange other world Ivan had mentioned, but the door opened inopportunely, and in walked Yao, who appeared irritated as if his feathers had been ruffled. "Ludwig reports that Clubs has drawn back into their own territory."

Sighing slightly, Arthur felt a pang of relief that the other King was safe. Alfred frowned. "They haven't surrendered. Why would they do that?"

"They're drawing us in," Arthur murmured. Both Yao and Alfred turned their gazes on the Queen, sitting up slightly in his bed. "How far have they retreated?"

"Spies account that they are returning to the capital city," Yao replied. "Tomorrow morning we will discuss our plans in Hearts' conference room. Until then." He slightly nodded to the monarchs and strode out.

Silence was left in his wake as Arthur stared up at the ceiling, trying to recall all of Ivan's words from their encounter, wondering why Ivan had only revealed himself to him. Alfred changed and eventually settled in beside him, jostling the bed roughly- Arthur hissed out in pain. His chest still burned from where Ivan had slashed him.

"Sorry," Alfred apologized, turning on his side to face Arthur. "I forgot that you were injured."

"You aren't better off yourself," Arthur observed, gazing at the nicks on his face, down his arms, across his chest- the deeper cuts were bandaged with white cloth that looked slightly blood-stained beneath. He tried shifting toward Alfred, forcing himself onto his side despite the pain. "I thought we were royalty. Where's the fancy pain-masking medicine?" He teased, lips quirking.

Alfred laughed- Arthur caught himself admiring the way the King smiled. "Sorry. Ain't got none."

"Is that the second time you've apologized in one minute?" Arthur shot back, trying to ignore the way they gravitated toward each other, closer and closer. Alfred didn't reply, a hand reaching out and brushing back Arthur's hair behind his ear. The gesture made Arthur's chest constrict, and not from pain. He closed his eyes self-consciously, wondering when he had started to feel such strange emotions. There was something painfully familiar that struck Arthur as he lay beside Alfred, and his thoughts flickered to his encounter with Ivan. _Another world? Could it be... I knew them?_

Arthur quickly discarded that idea as preposterous, focusing on Alfred carding fingers through his hair, reveling in the comfort it brought until it lulled him to sleep.

—


	6. Twisted

Breakfast was unusually quiet. Ludwig, Kiku, and Feliciano sat sullenly on one end of the table: Alfred, Arthur, and Yao sat at the other. Granted, the table was smaller in size than the dining table in Spades, so it wasn't as if they were separated by too much space. Yet, it seemed enough to draw some sort of segregation, and Alfred didn't like that.

Arthur noticed, too, glancing at Alfred with a wondrous expression. Alfred shared his curiosity. Perhaps the monarchy of Hearts were simply forlorn concerning the war?

Alfred was distracted momentarily as Arthur shoveled eggs from his plate onto the King's. The gesture was almost sweet, Alfred thought. Their eyes met once again- Arthur smiled wordlessly, as if saying, _I know you'll eat anything._

Of course, Yao had decided that he would break his King and Queen's moment by irritably addressing Ludwig. "Is there a reason for your pointed silence, King?"

Ludwig glanced up, eyes narrowed. "I've come to the decision that you like to pick fights."

"Did you figure that out all by yourself?" Arthur shot back, promptly coming to his Jack's defense. Kiku audibly swallowed from the other side of the room, and Feliciano nervously looked down at his hands, plate of food still untouched.

"You should watch your tongue," Ludwig observed cooly. "Lest you wish harm against you."

Arthur would have replied, but Alfred stood, fists hitting the table, silverware clinking. "Do _not_ insult my monarchy, Ludwig."

"Do remember that Clubs declared war against _you,_ not Hearts. We can ally ourselves to Clubs just as fast as we can ally ourselves to Spades."

There was silence. Alfred looked to Yao, then to Arthur, and spoke, "Is this the reason for your foulness? You wish to join the enemy?"

Kiku broke in this time. "We heard of Ivan's encounter with Arthur. Perhaps Clubs is not the enemy we have assumed." He paused, eyes cold. "Perhaps you are the enemy."

"That's preposterous!" Arthur hissed, standing furiously beside Alfred. "Listen to yourselves! You would blindly fall into Ivan's traps? Do you not trust that we have been allies since our Kingdoms were founded?"

"We have been allies because Spades has been the dominant power. Now, a shift is starting," Feliciano said distantly. "The power is falling to Clubs, and we wish to preserve our Kingdom."

Alfred couldn't believe what he was hearing. Life-long allies splitting, just like that, even after barely riding out a victory the day previous? Alfred had known Ludwig since he first joined Spades' military. This was not the man Alfred knew- this was a fearful man, desperate for complacency and security. Gaze hardening with his resolve, Alfred muttered, "Understood." He gestured for Yao and Arthur to follow him, and the monarchy of Spades exited the room without another word.

"We must leave," Yao whispered fiercely as they strode down the hall. "If my prediction is right, they will completely neutralize themselves before evening. Staying on their land is like a death wish."

"But where do we go?" Arthur asked. "The King of Diamonds clearly stated that he didn't want Spades marching through his territory uninvited. We can't go west. Yet if we go east, we enter the Kingdom of Clubs."

Alfred turned, stopping the other two in their tracks. Momentarily, he realized for the first time how tall he was compared to his Jack and Queen, and then murmured, "We must continue into Clubs and face Ivan once and for all. Our world will not be safe until this war is finished."

"I agree," Arthur replied. They looked to Yao, whose opinion would sway them either way. After a long moment of silence, eyes flitting from the King to the Queen, Yao gave a short nod of his head.

"I will assemble the soldiers, then. Gather your things and meet me outside the palace."

—

The army of Spades departed from Hearts quickly and entered the territory of Clubs. Alfred had never been on campaign past Hearts, and expected an instant change in surroundings in Clubs, but honestly, it was just colder. Everything else looked the same- heavy snow, dense forest, overcast sky.

A certain gloom settled over the troops as they rode through Clubs. Alfred could sense it from where he led- Spades' morale was low after an uncertain victory and the loss of an ally. Turning to Arthur, he was struck by how beautiful the man looked, hood down and snow in his hair, and couldn't compose himself in time.

"What?" Arthur smiled.

Alfred shook his head. "Nothing. I was just..." he trailed off, the ground shaking slightly beneath him. Arthur saw the change in his demeanor and frowned as Alfred halted the troops. "Do you feel that?"

"Someone is coming," Yao hissed. "It could be Clubs."

"What if it's Hearts?" Arthur urgently questioned. "Could they have changed their minds so soon?"

Turning and facing the troops, Alfred peered out at the horizon, muttering, "Neither."

"What?" Yao huffed, eyes widening as he spotted what Alfred saw. "What are they doing here?"

Angry, burning jealousy welled up in Alfred's chest as Arthur grinned. "Gods above, it's Francis."

Francis it was, the army of Diamonds spanning out behind him. Some of his men held the golden flag of Diamonds high, a peaceful gesture as they neared. Making his way through the army of Spades, Francis held his head high, halting in front of the Spadian monarchy.

"What are you doing here?" Alfred gritted out. He tried his best to keep his tone neutral.

"News travels fast," Francis replied, his eyes on Arthur. "And though this is quite informal, I wish to ally our Kingdoms."

Yao's mouth dropped open, astonished. "Diamonds is a neutral country," he stuttered. "You would forsake the wish of your ancestors?"

"I would," Francis stated firmly. Out of the corner of Alfred's eye, he saw Arthur smile. "Times are changing. Hearts is foolish not to realize that the King of Clubs is power-hungry. If they ally with him, they will surely fall. If I maintain neutrality, I shall fall as well. To ally with Spades and protect the balance of power is to save my country."

Snow continued to fall, the sky remained shrouded. Yet there was a powerful increase of morale among the troops, one that Alfred couldn't turn away for his own personal gain. With the addition of troops, Spades had a chance- a good chance- at taking on Clubs in their own territory. It was a deal that Alfred couldn't reject. Nodding stiffly, he said, "Then, welcome aboard."

—

A fortnight passed, in which Hearts declared themselves a neutral entity- an ironic shift between Diamonds and Hearts had taken place. Two weeks of stomping through the snow in bitter cold conditions caused some men to fall ill: Alfred found himself falling under a sort of illness as well- a mental illness. Although Francis was polite, he obviously didn't fancy Alfred the way he did Arthur- Alfred could barely sneak in three words with Arthur before Francis was by his side, and the two would drift back into the lines, away from Alfred and Yao in their own world.

It was _absolutely_ infuriating. Just as Alfred came to terms with his feelings, Francis swept in, and all of Alfred's previous doubts concerning his and Arthur's relationship came sweeping in with him. Being in the territory of Clubs was of no help: every second, Alfred felt on edge, constantly expecting an ambush, although it never came.

The march to the capital city would be complete in two days. Still, Alfred had no plan, no brilliant siege prepared, and bitterly blamed it on Francis for stealing his Queen's attention. As the troops rested for the night, Alfred and Yao discussed strategies in their tent. Halfway through, Yao paused. "Are you okay, Alfred?"

It was odd to hear Yao speak his name, and it was enough to jostle him out of his irate thoughts. "Peachy," he grumbled, running fingers through his hair.

Yao didn't look convinced. "I sensed that you didn't like Francis, but I didn't expect it to be this... hindering." Alfred didn't reply. "This isn't about... Arthur, is it?"

Alfred refused to look at him. "No."

"I would hope not. Your relationship should be purely platonic."

_That's exactly what Francis said._ "Why is that, Yao?"

The Jack looked slightly taken aback and slightly nervous. "It has always been that way between the monarchy. You do not fall in love. You do not get attached."

Studying him closely, Alfred realized there was something Yao was hiding from him. Frustrated, Alfred stormed out of the tent despite Yao's protests and into the cold, deciding that Francis had occupied Arthur long enough, and took off to find the two.

—

"Don't you think we should return to the camp?" Arthur dropped his firewood, exhausted. "You always drag me out for the strangest of reasons."

Francis smiled, drawing closer to him. "Gathering firewood isn't strange. Besides, I yearn to talk to you." He dropped his firewood next to Arthur's pile.

"Haven't we talked enough over the past week?" Arthur backed away pointedly.

"You wound me," Francis dramatically replied. "I intend to make up for the years we were forced apart." He took Arthur's hands in his when the Queen tried to pull away. "Why are you so eager to return?"

Arthur huffed, "I do not take my position lightly. We should return and discuss strategies with Yao and Alfred-"

"I, too, respect my position, but I have other interests." There were so many implications behind the words that Arthur nervously and forcibly tore his hand away from Francis.

"Other...interests?"

Laughing softly, Francis caught Arthur's arm once again and drew him close: eyes widening slightly, Arthur couldn't react in time as Francis lifted his chin and kissed him. Fingers tightening in the linen Francis wore, Arthur, alarmed, pulled back, gasping out, "Fran-" He was interrupted once again by the King, mouth on his, Arthur's protests muffled. Francis backed him up, pinned his hands against the nearest tree, and leaned forward, kissing Arthur, ignoring the fact that the Queen wouldn't reciprocate his actions.

"What the _hell?!_ " A shrill voice sounded. Francis instantly stumbled backwards, as if being repelled by Arthur, who slumped against the tree, panting for breath. Alfred lividly glared at the other shellshocked King, marching forward and leaning into Francis's face aggressively. "You ally yourself with Spades just to take advantage of my Queen?"

Francis, anger roused by Alfred's harsh words, hissed, "I wouldn't do anything he didn't want me to do."

There was a moment of tense silence. Alfred clenched his jaw, and turing to Arthur, he growled, "Did you kiss him?"

Mortified, Arthur froze, eyes wide. His mouth opened, wanting to assure Alfred, but the only words that came out were, "Why the hell do you care?"

Alfred didn't look offended. "Tell me the truth."

Both stared at the Queen, hanging on his words by a thread. Arthur swallowed, unable to stare back at such intensity, unsure of who to betray. Francis, lovely, idiotic Francis, had been everything in the past. But did Arthur love him? Would Arthur kiss him?

"...No."

Francis was prideful, and would never admit that he lost: turning to Alfred, he bowed to take his leave. As he turned, his eyes caught Arthur's, and smiled graciously. Arthur could read him front to back. His eyes conveyed a type of despondency, perhaps regret- but love nonetheless, a different love for Arthur than Arthur carried for him. And he was gone with the flash of a golden cape.

_I've driven him away permanently. What a selfish fool I am,_ Arthur thought miserably, wishing, waiting to awake from this nightmare.

Hands gently held his shoulders. Arthur gazed up at Alfred, angry and shaken and grieved all at once. Too many problems now surrounded Arthur's mind. _What will Francis do now? Will he withdraw his troops entirely? Will we face Clubs on our own?_

"Are you okay?" Alfred asked, brushing Arthur's fringe behind his ear. He looked worried, but... _pleased,_ as if driving off Francis had been an answer to his prayers.

Arthur shoved him furiously, shouting, "Why must you meddle in everything?! You drove him away, bastard!" To hide his emotive face, Arthur stormed past him, jaw clenched. It was unfair of him to blame Alfred. In his anxious state of mind, he didn't care. Ignoring the way Alfred called for him to wait, Arthur strode angrily away, leaving Alfred alone in the snowy clearing.

—

Alfred raced into the camp with every intention of swooping Arthur up and carrying him back to their tent, but the sight of Francis entering into his own tent caught Alfred's eye. Alfred followed him, reminding himself of his duty as King, and emerged into the dark tent. He faced Francis's back, the long blonde hair he had tied into an immaculate ponytail hours before now mussed and tangled.

"Francis," Alfred began, voice rough. "I don't want you to leave."

Bitterly, Francis laughed. "Of course you don't. Who would want to face Clubs alone?" At a loss for words, Alfred simply remained quiet, watching as Francis turned slightly toward him, eyes dark, seething. "And yet, I have no reason to stay here. Arthur obviously is in love with his King."

"I thought the law states a relationship between a monarchy is platonic. Why would you assume that Arthur...?"

Francis shook his head, eyes closing. "It's not a law, Alfred. I never said that it was a law. It's... an understanding, of sorts." His eyes shone as they met Alfred's once again. "You do not fall in love."

"Why?"

Francis's lifted a hand, covering his face, jaw trembling. Alfred, confused, wasn't sure if he should stay, but Francis hissed out, "My Queen's name was Lili. She was quiet, beautiful... foolishly, we fell in love. I tossed away the warnings without a second thought- what possibly could happen?" His eyes met Alfred's, and even in the dim light, Alfred could see the emotion, could feel it radiating from the other King. "Did you ever wonder why the Queen harnesses magic?" Alfred didn't move, wordlessly staring at Francis. "This land," he gritted out, "is a sick, twisted hell. Our Kingdoms thrive on magic- they choose a King and Queen, give them intricate birthmarks, give the Queen magic- you cannot deny that our world is magical. Yet, as time passes, it festers, and the Kingdom's magic drains. The only person who carries the same magic is the Queen."

Rolling his eyes, Alfred scoffed. "Please. That makes no sense-"

"The Queen _dies,_ Alfred!" Francis shouted.

Silence settled over the pair. Alfred, staring at Francis, narrowed his eyes. "Ridiculous."

Francis stalked closer to him. "I thought so, too. And two years ago, when Diamonds entered a severe drought, she... she took her life. She saved our land- the drought was instantly gone, all because she had restored magic to the Kingdom. It was absurd, I thought, and for years, I read on the issue, sure that the land couldn't do that. Book after book, page after page, were narrated by Kings who had lost their other half, and all came to the same conclusion. Every Queen, eventually, will die to save the Kingdom."

Quietly, Alfred said, "And this is why I am constantly warned? Because... Arthur will die?"

"Yes."

"Maybe you are right," Alfred murmured. Francis's eyes searched his, confused as Alfred's voice raised. "But I still care for my Queen. Everyone dies, Francis. You don't stop loving because of the possibility of death."

"You would rather have your heart broken?" Francis snarled, teeth gritting together.

Alfred turned, leaving his question unanswered. "If you wish to return to neutrality, you may leave in the morning. I won't stop you." He walked out without another word.

—

Arthur was in his makeshift bed, seemingly asleep, when Alfred stepped into their tent. Tossing his blue coat somewhere, Alfred settled beside him, facing his back.

_Will you die soon? If you did, I don't think I'd be able to move on._

Alfred shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Tentatively, he lifted a hand, with every intention of sliding it around Arthur's waist, when his Queen whirled around, glaring at him. Apparently, he wasn't as asleep as Alfred thought he had been.

Flushing, Alfred dropped his hand instantly, and explained lamely, "I... I thought you were asleep."

"Piss off." He turned around and scooted farther away from Alfred.

Sighing out, Alfred turned onto his back, staring up at the top of the tent. The material was so thin that it barely held in heat, but even so, there was a benefit: he could make out the stars. Soon enough, he lost himself in his thoughts, thoughts of how powerful this land was, how strange it was that Kings were so revered even though the Queens sacrificed themselves, why only the Queen possessed magic-

_Wait._ Alfred's brow scrunched in realization. _Yao can wield magic. How is that so? Is Francis lying?_

"Al?"

The nickname startled Alfred. Curiously, he gazed at Arthur's back. "Yeah?"

"I'm..." he shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry."

Heart swelling, Alfred rolled onto his side, pushing himself up onto his elbow so he had a better view of Arthur's face. _How am I not supposed to fall in love with you when you do things like that?_ "Don't be. You were right." He reached out, brushing blonde strands of hair out of his face. Laughing softly, he continued, "It just pissed me off when I saw him kissing you even as you tried to push him away."

Surprisingly, Arthur laughed softly, even though he looked a few shades scarlet. "Really? I would have never guessed, seeing as how you yelled at him wildly." Alfred chuckled at his sarcasm and Arthur turned, facing the King. "I was seconds from zapping him."

The reminder of magic almost made Alfred flinch, but he restrained himself, smiling. "I know. It was written all over your face."

"You're not mad at me?"

"Of course not."

Arthur's eyes were ridiculously beautiful, Alfred thought, especially when he smiled. And this time, when Alfred's arm gently wound around his waist, Arthur didn't glare nor push him away.


	7. Reveal

Alfred, as soon as he stepped outside his tent, almost collided with a very urgent someone. "King Alfred," he addressed hurriedly: Alfred could tell he was a messenger from Diamonds. "The King of Diamonds would like to speak with you and your monarchy as soon as possible."

He left briskly, scurrying along like a mouse. Furrowing his brow, Alfred turned to enter his tent and wake up the Queen, but Arthur was already emerging. "I heard him." Frowning, Arthur murmured, "Is Francis... leaving?"

Torn between his personal desire and his duty as King, Alfred forced himself to reply, "I guess we'll find out." Boots crunching in the snow, both King and Queen crossed the camp and ducked into Francis's tent. As their eyes adjusted to the dimness, Francis made his presence known. The man looked as if he hadn't slept nor eaten, bags under his eyes, blonde hair mussed, and yet he still carried himself with dignity, with an aura of strength.

"I am not one to back out on my word," Francis started. "But we must clear up this... _misunderstanding_ from yesterday." He gestured toward Arthur, eyes softening. "I plan to continue with Spades. Yet if you speak, my Queen, against my coming, I will turn and leave immediately."

So, he was leaving it up to Arthur to decide. Miffed, Alfred glanced at the Queen, shadows accenting his face. His green eyes glittered with remorse as he said, "I would be delighted for you to remain by our side..." he trailed off, glancing up at Alfred and smiling softly. "But my King must agree to this as well. We make decisions together."

Alfred tried to suppress his giddiness, reminding himself to be professional no matter how much a certain human being messed with your heart and mind simultaneously. And as much as he wanted Francis gone... Arthur turning to him was the deal-breaker. "I would hope you accompany us, then," Alfred affirmed, eyes locked with Francis's. _Granted that you back off from my Queen, bastard._

Francis understood the message behind Alfred's stare, and graciously nodded. "Then, to business. What is our attack formation looking like so far?"

As if on cue, Yao stormed into the tent, snapping, "Oh, look at this, a meeting. I wonder why the Jack wasn't invited?" Alfred huffed in amusement as aloof, snarky Yao halted beside Arthur, arms crossed against his chest like a whining child. "Alfred has been so busy wallowing in self-pity we don't _have_ an attack formation. Nor a plan. Nothing! We're just waltzing into Clubs."

Alfred rolled his eyes, but it was impossible to be angry with Yao. "We do have a plan. It's just not developed." He took a breath and added, "And Arthur, Yao, and I split from the main force."

Francis's and Arthur's eyes widened comically, and at the same time, each hissed, " _What?_ "

Yao shrugged, eyes closed as he huffed, "We take down Ivan in the palace. Francis leads Spades and Diamonds against Clubs' troops in the capital city."

The King of Diamonds didn't look too sure. "I do not think you are aware of the fact that I haven't led an army into battle in my _life_ ," he laughed roughly, incredulously. "I assumed we would follow Alfred. He was the primary war general, after all."

"Can the three of us afford to split off?" Arthur asked, more tentatively than Francis, but just as doubtful. "Yao, you have told me before that you've never met Ivan personally." Yao looked uncomfortable, glancing away and nodding slightly. Arthur continued, "And Alfred has never, either. I am the only one here who has fought with him."

"Ivan has no Queen nor Jack," Alfred pointed out. "He may be strong, but we are equally as strong united."

Yao looked pleased, nodding at the words. "Alfred is right. Ivan is no match for the three of us." He turned to Francis, eyebrows raising. "But we can only go forward with this if you agree to lead the troops."

All eyes turned to Francis. He sighed out, looking down and closing his eyes. "I am simply not a war general. If things were to turn in their favor... I wouldn't know how to handle it."

"You have an eye for detail," Arthur spoke up. "If worse came to worse, you'd know what to do. Trust your instincts."

Although Francis looked pleased, ducking his head, he murmured, "Easier said than done." Coughing, he straightened up, and decided firmly, "So be it. I'll lead the troops into battle."

—

Extensive plans and strategies were given to Francis, who only had mere hours to memorize every scenario possible. Scouts had spied Clubs' army, camping out in the center of the capital city, ready to defend it- penned in by all the buildings. It would be easy to ambush. Francis listened without complaint- Alfred was grateful, and started to see Francis in a different light than he had previously. And there was something... familiar about him as his eyes caught Alfred's. _Something..._

Now was not the time to reminisce. The march toward the snowy capital city began, and there was a question that still occupied Alfred's mind from last night. Alfred exhaled, breath a visible white puff of air, and turned to Yao, who rode beside him. "Yao."

The Jack glanced at him. Alfred took this as permission to continue, and murmured softly as to not alert the others, "Francis and I discussed something last night."

Eyebrows raising and lips in a taut line, Yao drawled out, "And...?"

"About the Queen. Why we are advised not to get involved." Alfred paused, searching Yao's expression- he seemed indifferent. "He informed me that the Queen- _only_ the Queen- inherits magic."

The unsaid question hung in the air. Yao's golden eyes widened slightly, as if fearful. "What are you saying, Alfred?"

"Just tell me the truth."

Pausing, Yao looked away, gathering his thoughts. "I..." he turned back to Alfred skittishly. "You mustn't tell anyone, Alfred. Do you swear to me?"

Alfred nodded. "Of course. Not a soul."

Yao breathed out sharply. "I... I lied."

Brow furrowing, Alfred tilted his head. "What?"

"I've known Ivan since... since I was young," Yao whispered. "Because I was his Queen."

Stunned, Alfred would have reeled back if he weren't sitting on a horse. Leaning toward Yao, he whispered fiercely, "You _what?!"_

"I was born in Clubs. I inherited the Queen's birthmark at a young age, betrothed to a King whom I hardly knew. Of course, I didn't know what I was getting into. I could wield magic, and that was enough for me." Yao's shoulders slumped, eyes cast low as he continued. "We... we grew very close. He was very kind to me. It was as if he already knew me." Glancing back at Alfred, he chuckled bitterly, "And it turns out, he did. He knew all of us. He knew-"

Yao cut himself off, trying to avoid Alfred's shocked eyes that searched his. "What?! How? He could see the future?"

"The opposite. He could see the past." Yao swallowed. "And I..."

Alfred whispered, "And you know, too. How? How could you know?"

Their eyes met. Yao's gaze carried a certain regret, a knowledge that Alfred wasn't sure he wanted to discover. "I cannot say, Alfred."

Miffed that Yao would lead him on this far, Alfred asked irritably, "But... how are you here? How are you our Jack? Why did you leave Clubs?" _Why didn't you die for your Kingdom, the way Queens are supposed to?_

Alfred had tried to solve one question, but he had only immersed himself into deeper confusion. Yao shook his head and looked away, obviously finished speaking. He would come along eventually, Alfred decided, but the questions, the mystery, kept devouring his mind. Yao's gaze at him had been almost... _fearful,_ as if...

_As if he doesn't want me to discover my past._

Alfred's fingers curled tight around the reigns he held, musing, _I must find Ivan, no matter what. He holds the answers._

Francis, with a jerk of his hand, stilled the troops, his head held high and eyes alert. "We approach the outskirts of the capital city." Turning his horse to face the trio behind him, he stated, "It is time for us to part ways, then."

Alfred rode up beside Francis, their gaze unfaltering. There was something he owed Francis for leading his troops, and clasping the other King's shoulder, he smiled. "We have our differences, Francis. But you are a good man."

Francis smiled as well, blue eyes shining with renewed strength. Arthur also approached Francis, and the two embraced, awkward due to their positions on horses, but powerful nevertheless. Wordlessly they communicated, it seemed, as Arthur drew back, green eyes emotive. _Be careful._

And to the castle of Clubs the Monarchy of Spades went.

—

The Palace of Clubs was enormous, made entirely of white stone, something you'd see in a fairytale. Alfred, Arthur, and Yao dismounted on the outer edge of the forest quietly, eyes warily surveying the castle. Arthur slid his hood off his head, snow dusting his blonde hair, and turned to Alfred. "It seems the diversion worked. The guards are gone facing Francis and his army in the west."

Alfred nodded, unsheathing his sword. "That leaves the front unguarded. Let's go."

Walking out from the protective cover of the forest, the monarchy advanced up the slick grey steps that led to the door. Towering above them, the door appeared quite intimidating, and Alfred glanced back at his Queen and Jack. They nodded- there was no turning back now. With a sharp exhale, Alfred pushed open the door.

The palace was dark, as if uninhabited. Alfred saw Yao shift uncomfortably as they walked in. Eerie it was, their footsteps the only sound resonating, clacking on the cold marble floor. Green banners that had once pristinely hung in the ballroom were ripped and tattered. Shadows danced over an empty space that had once sparkled with light, had once brought joy and laughter and dancing- for a moment, Alfred sadly wondered what had happened to change Clubs. Arthur's eyes shifted left and right: he turned around, walking backwards, sword held out in a defensive position as they advanced through the palace.

Front level clear, Alfred gestured wordlessly to the flight of stairs before them. Swiftly, with Alfred leading the way, the monarchy escalated the steps, striding into the second level of the palace. A hallway with several doors was all the stairs had led to. Turning, Alfred mouthed, _Ivan has to be in one of these rooms._

Arthur and Yao nodded, following Alfred as they advanced down the hall, each door devoid of a certain King. Alfred grew worried as they reached the last door, suspiciously glancing over his shoulder, and then opened the final door.

Ivan sat on his throne, facing them at the very end of the room, crown on his head. Yao swallowed nervously, and Arthur's lips curled into a snarl. Alfred walked in, straight-faced, blue eyes locked with Ivan's violet in a challenge. He stopped halfway down the red carpet, sword held out by his side, Yao and Arthur slightly behind him.

"Your army is surrounded," Alfred declared, eyes narrowing. "Surrender."

Ivan chuckled, a deep, resounding, berating laugh. He stood, white coat fanning out behind him as he calmly walked down the steps, stopping at the bottom. Dark eyes swept over the monarchy as he completely ignored Alfred's statement. "It is good to see you again, Arthur. Have you reconsidered your position?"

"Like hell," Arthur growled. Alfred quickly recalled the words Ivan had spoken to Arthur- he had called Arthur a friend, had denied declaring war on Spades for simply conquest...

"You cannot hide," Yao spoke up. Ivan's stoic gaze faltered for a moment as his eyes met Yao's. "You must surrender."

Another deep chuckle sounded as Ivan smiled, sickly pleasant. "You truly think it is just us?"

Immediately as he finished, armed men flooded through the door. Alfred turned, eyes wide as he observed them, and then whirled around to Ivan, eyes narrowing. With a growl, he charged the King of Clubs, but Ivan, grabbing his coat and whisking it in front of him, emitted a large, purple transparent forcefield, one that shocked Alfred on contact and sent him falling back.

The forcefield faded away, and Ivan was gone. Stunned, Alfred scrambled to his feet and stood back to back with his monarchy, completely surrounded by the armed palace guards that had seemingly come from nowhere.

_What is this? How can every monarch except me wield magic? How could Ivan harness magic?_

As if Yao could hear him thinking, he explained, "He learned how to use black magic. That spell warped him to another section of the palace."

Before Alfred could reply, Arthur broke in. "We can hold them off." Glancing at Alfred, he said, "Go after Ivan."

"I can't leave you," Alfred argued. "We all fight together."

"Now's no time for sentiments!" Yao snapped. "Go after him!"

Breaking from the group as the palace guards attacked, Alfred raced out of the throne room, slashing any enemy that blocked his way. Arthur and Yao could take care of themselves- and they were right. Ivan needed to be found immediately. Slamming open every door in the hallway, Alfred searched for the King, skirting down the stairs and into the expanse of the ballroom. There Ivan stood, sword at attention, eyes steely and cold.

"You think you're a hero," Ivan spat viciously. Alfred, taken off guard, glared at him as he continued. "You brainwash my friends into thinking I am evil."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Alfred snarled. "But you _are_ evil."

Ivan lunged at him- Alfred defended himself from the whirlwind of attacks, sidestepping when he realized Ivan was trying to drive him into a corner. Ivan whirled around, attacking again, each blow heavier than the last. Alfred neatly blocked each strong swing, blades clashing and echoing through the hall. Though Ivan was powerful, Alfred had finesse, and eventually drove him back. Glaring at each other and panting for breath, they paused, Ivan hissing out, " _You,_ Alfred- you are the evil one."

Enraged, Alfred lashed out with his sword, taking the offensive. He barely made contact with Ivan's torso before their swords locked, each trying to press the other back. His stronger hand still on his sword, locked with Alfred's, Ivan raised his other hand up, eyes dark, about to throw static electricity at Alfred that would surely knock him out. Alfred, eyes wide, ducked as Ivan's hand wrathfully flung the ball of magic at him-

Alfred heard a loud screech and suddenly flew backwards, pushed by something. He opened his eyes, astonished to see some blue transparent forcefield surrounding him, having protected him from Ivan's dark magic. Two figures fought outside the forcefield: Alfred, scrambling to his feet, saw that Yao had launched himself at Ivan, their swords clashing, resounding through the unlit ballroom.

Ivan defended himself from the onslaught of attacks, too distracted to see Yao hurl his fist, flaming with a blue-electric magic, right into his chest. The force and shock sent Ivan flying back, making contact with the wall, cracking the stone. He struggled to his feet, snarling, "You would choose him over me? Knowing what he did?"

Alfred watched, hands pressed against the forcefield, trying to break out, but Yao wouldn't release him. "The past is the past!" He yelled, voice cracking. "But you are too bitter to realize that!"

The blue forcefield came crumbling down. Alfred picked up his sword, ready to race to Yao's side, but Ivan warped, disappearing with electric shocks resonating after him. Footsteps sounded on the stairs- Alfred spotted Arthur, still at the top of the flight. Yao saw him too, shouting, "Arthur! Ivan's back in the throne room!"

Arthur paused, wide-eyed, hair ruffled, and raced back up the stairs. Alfred raced after the Queen, Yao right behind him, and they flew up the stairs swiftly. Alfred's heart jumped irregularly in his chest, remembering what Ivan had done to Arthur last time, remembering Arthur's words, and the words that Yao and Ivan had just screamed at each other-

The King and Jack barged into the throne room as Arthur faced Ivan, Arthur's sword pointed at Ivan. The King held something in his hand, extended toward Arthur to take- Alfred couldn't see more than a glimpse of the thing before Arthur launched himself forward, attacking Ivan with all his strength. Whatever Ivan had held rolled across the floor, forgotten like a distant memory, and Yao and Alfred jumped into the battle as well.

Arthur was sent reeling backward after Ivan's sword hit his with a powerful blow- but Yao was instantly in front of him, bombarding Ivan with powerful strikes equivalent to the King's, despite his small stature. Ivan's control of dark magic proved far more extensive than Alfred thought- distancing himself from the monarchy of Spades, he whirled his hand outward. Instantly, huge, life-size cards with the symbol of Spades appeared in a circle around them, towering over the monarchy, a ring to pen them in. They started to spin in a dizzying circle.

"What now?" Alfred yelled, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Arthur turned to Alfred, green eyes sharp. "It's a puzzle," he called out. "We have to solve it."

Yao scowled and cast magic at one of the cards, but on contact, the magic merely fizzled out. Alfred's eyes narrowed in on the cards, trying to solve the pattern as they spun by. A King-card suddenly made an appearance, but disappeared just as fast. Glancing at Arthur and Yao, he shouted, "It's the King card!"

Arthur reacted faster than Yao and leapt up at it- with the strike of magic electricity, the illusion of cards vanished, exposing Ivan once again. The monarchy of Spades launched themselves at the King of Clubs, trying to overwhelm him- until everything went wrong. Ivan's fist connected with Alfred's face, sending him to the floor- Arthur, distracted, was then sent flying across the room and into the wall with a flick of Ivan's hand.

Furiously, Yao attacked the King. Blood dripped into Alfred's eye- he shook his head, trying to stand, vision blurred as his heart sounded in his ears. But as he sat up, something touched his back.

Everything rewound into static.

_America!_ A voice shouts. _You'll be late for our meeting! Co-_

Alfred jolted back into reality, a chill running down his spine, his entire being affected by the distant memory. Turning, he winced at the bright blue light emitting from the strange tube that rolled against the floor- tilting his head, knowing that there was something odd, something so close yet untouchable that haunted him...

" _No_ , Alfred!" Yao yelled, catching sight of Alfred on the ground. "Don't-"

Reaching out, Alfred grasped the tube.

Words fade in and out. Alfred can't tell if he's floating in space or touching ground- everything is upside down, and static pitches increase and decrease. It's terrifying. Alfred isn't sure why the word England stabs through his heart every time it fades in, every time a familiar voice laughs. _Isn't that Arthur's voice?_ One side of him thinks.

He's suddenly in a house, one that is unfamiliar but familiar- he takes in his surroundings, observes knick-knacks and other things undefinable. A picture frame holds two faces- his and Arthur's.

There's a knock on the door. Someone in the house calls out, _I'm coming!_

Alfred's eyes lock on a petite figure that races out of the kitchen, blonde hair a mess- it's Arthur, without a doubt. Alfred doesn't understand why he's seeing this, and has the presence of mind to let go of the tube. But he doesn't.

The door opens. Alfred's eyes widen- he himself is standing at the front door, grinning. This Alfred leans against the doorframe and lifts into view what he was hiding behind his back- roses. _Is Arthur laughing or crying?_ the real Alfred wonders, as Arthur says, _America!_ and leaps into his arms.

Alfred doesn't remember this, and yet it sends bolts of bittersweet emotion to his heart. Why is he called America?

Time shifts. Alfred feels as if he's lived since time began as he floats in an empty void, staring at nothing. And suddenly, he's in a new room, with technology everywhere- Alfred is bewildered at all of the people in the room, calling to each other from their stations. It is hectic, and Alfred wonders what they are doing.

Someone familiar walks into the picture- Arthur. He's wearing a green military uniform, something that Alfred can never believe was the style in whatever day this is. However, his mirth at the clothing selection is interrupted as he realizes Arthur is nervous, biting his lip, pacing the room, glancing up at some moving screen that takes over most of one wall. People in the room point at the screen, but Alfred focuses on Arthur- focuses as _America_ walks up to his side, a hand on his shoulder. He murmurs, _Don't worry, England. Everything will be fine._

England? Who is England? Alfred furrows his brow, confused. Why does this seem familiar?

_Sir,_ someone says, addressing America. _The nukes have launched._

America nods, glances up at that big screen, and waits like everyone else. Alfred doesn't understand what they are waiting for, and he grows bored. But then, everyone is cheering, throwing papers and whatnot in joy. Alfred catches a sentence- _Russia is gone!_

Russia? Who is Russia? Alfred can't think for long, because he sees that one person is not celebrating, arms crossed tightly over his chest. America notices, too, and his joy dies down, withers, warping into a look of concern. He places his hands on England's shoulders, tilting his head up, asking, _What's wrong?_

Before England can answer, all the cheers die down, because someone calls for America's attention urgently, fearfully. _Sir, we... we have a problem._

America leaves England's side. An urge comes over Alfred- he shouts, _No! Stay with England!_ America doesn't listen to him. He skips up the steps to this woman's side, and they observe forms of data, look up at the big screen, which shows an explosion, massive. Even Alfred looks away from England, the screen capturing his attention. The blast is enormous- he has never seen such power. Someone _is_ dead.

_-radiation has spread,_ the woman explains. _We've miscalculated majorly... the detonations won't stop..._

_America!_

Everyone looks to England, whose eyes, green and afraid, stare back at America's. Alfred's eyes widen like America's, because England is shimmering. His entire form is fading slowly, but his eyes stare, directly at America as he makes his way down the stairs.

England falls. America reaches out to catch him, but it's too late. England dissolves completely, fragments of white shards sparkling in the air in his wake. He is gone- Alfred exhales heavily, starts to pant as he realizes, slowly, what is happening. What he is remembering.

America falls to his knees, arms still held out, stunned. Everyone in the room is silent. Alfred grips his head, a strangled noise falling from his lips as everything starts to flood his mind. The memory he was in disappears- now he is completely alone, drenched in darkness.

_I was the personification of the United States of America. I loved England. I hated Russia. I used the most powerful weapon in the world to destroy him, and ended up destroying everyone. I watched the one I loved dissolve in front of me. I murdered thousands of innocent people._

_Ivan was right. I am the evil one._

Alfred dropped the tube and opened his eyes, filled with unshed tears that threatened to fall. Alfred stared at the floor, panting heavily, still gripping his head as his past filed into his mind. Footsteps sounded, and two white boots came into Alfred's vision.

"Now you know," Ivan said bitterly. "Now you understand why I hate you. Why I declared war on Spades. Why I wanted revenge."

Alfred gritted his teeth together, grabbed his sword, and lashed out at Ivan, taking him by surprise. As Ivan stumbled backwards, fingers dipping in the blood Alfred inflicted on his chest, Alfred snarled ferociously, "I am _not_ that man!"

"You _killed_ him!" Ivan hissed, pointing to Yao, who was a crumpled heap on the floor, having been knocked out by Ivan. His violet eyes conveyed despair, loneliness, hatred. "And even in this life, you took him from me!"

Alfred jumped for Ivan, screaming in fury. Swords collided with brutal strength as the Kings fought, each strike after the next sounding louder and shriller than the last. Furniture was shoved out of the way, beautiful glass vases were broken, as Alfred swung his sword with no abandon, his wounds numbed by adrenaline.

He angrily struck Ivan one last time, sending him reeling to the floor, finally unconscious. Panting, Alfred dropped his sword, staring at Ivan's body on the floor. Static flooded his mind- another picture of _Russia,_ dead on the ground, covered in the blood of his people who had also been murdered.

_What do I do?_ Alfred thought miserably, collapsing to the floor, clenching his jaw and his fists. Blood dripped down his cheek, his wound still bleeding out. _I wiped out the world for selfish ambition and hatred. I defeated Clubs, but at the highest price possible._

Someone moaned softly from the other side of the room. Thoughts broken, Alfred looked up, catching sight of Arthur, still slumped against the wall where he had been thrown. Heart jumping, Alfred raced over, kneeling at his side, begging in his mind, _Don't disappear. Don't leave me._

Arthur's eyes opened, staring at Alfred's face. He huffed softly, "Did... did we win?"

Alfred laughed. Arthur was beautiful. "Yeah." His hands touched Arthur's cheeks, overcome with affection and new feelings for the Queen due to his memory of the past. His thumb smeared blood across a cut on Arthur's cheek. Smiling, Arthur's hand touched Alfred's, pressing his hand close to his cheek, and closed his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"As long as you are." Arthur opened his eyes once more, his words the relief Alfred needed. He tried to forget, just one moment, about his past, and focused on Arthur.

Both leaned forward, eyes searching each other, until Arthur bumped his forehead to Alfred's. So many memories surged through him- so many times he had done this with Arthur, though it had felt like a million years. _Maybe it_ has _been a million years since we left our lives as personifications. And now, we are trapped in a new world._

Trapped? Or was this a chance to start over? The King of Spades didn't know. He sought comfort and found it in Arthur, who touched his nose to Alfred's gently before he laughed softly, as if they were acting absurd. Alfred couldn't help but think, _I can't lose him. Never again. I can never tell him of our past._ "How did you defeat all of those guards Ivan sent at you?"

Affectionately, Arthur buried his face in Alfred's shoulder, exhaustedly mumbling, "Yao did most of the work. We combined a spell." Although blood stained Alfred's coat, he didn't care, wrapping his arms protectively around the Queen, nosing his blonde strands of hair.

_We'll all start over, and everything will be fine. Right?_


	8. Waltz

Ivan was taken prisoner and would stand trial in Spades. Spades had once been an Empire, and quickly, it seemed as if it was becoming such again under the new, powerful monarchy. The entire Kingdom of Clubs now would be under subjugation, although to whom, no one had decided. The other three Kingdoms would need to sign a treaty quickly to solve that problem.

Francis had done his job magnificently: the capital city of Clubs was officially captured. The people were to give up their weapons until further notice- Diamonds and Spades declared martial law due to the arrest of the King of Clubs. Men from each army were selected to patrol the land in the absence of each monarchy, who would be gathering in Spades for the treaty.

The King of Clubs was bound and his hands wrapped with durable cloth to prevent dark magic. A large guard patrol escorted him behind the monarchies of Diamonds and Spades. Without hesitation or words, he complied: Alfred noticed the tension in Yao, but remained silent. He didn't tell Yao nor anyone that he had taken the reactor tube that revealed the past.

The journey home was significantly more pleasant than the previous. Slowly, the snow was melting- spring was approaching, and with it came the beautiful color green. Alfred had missed the warmth greatly. He supposed that although the winter was harsh and cold, killing life, spring always came after, bringing with it rebirth: just as the people had been re-birthed into this world after their death in their past lives.

To Alfred's relief, the farther they traveled from Clubs, the warmer the air was. Winter cloaks became unnecessary and were shed. Morning dew and humidity returned to the earth, accepted ever so joyously by every Kingdom.

Hearts still remained neutral, but Alfred knew they regretted their decision in the long run. Diamonds, even though they were a weaker trading partner, was now allied with Spades, and that fact would not change for quite awhile. Since Hearts had helped them defeat Clubs in the first battle, Alfred decided he would ask his Queen and Jack if they wanted to cut Hearts a small deal when the treaty was discussed- perhaps give them a small region of Clubs. Then again, he wasn't sure if Yao even wanted to split Clubs into three districts. And knowing Arthur, he'd probably come up with his own solution.

It would be discussed as soon as they reached Spades. As they marched through Diamonds, Alfred noticed how different the landscape appeared now that the winter had passed. No longer bleak and distasteful, the woods looked warm and welcoming, bright green and almost fairytale-like. Even the villagers looked high-spirited. Yao glanced tentatively at Alfred and explained, "I suppose it was a very wise move on Francis's part to ally with us. Diamonds has suffered several food shortages this season."

Alfred nodded. "And now with Spades as their trading partner, Diamonds will be on the mend." He spared a glance at Francis, who was conversing with Arthur, but his thoughts were elsewhere- they'd been elsewhere ever since departing Clubs. Yao and he hadn't spoken of the past- it was an understood subject that neither would discuss. Yao, fiddling with his hair, murmured an absent, "Indeed." Apparently, his thoughts were also elsewhere.

They passed through the capital city of Diamonds, greeted by exuberant commoners and wives who leapt into their husbands' arms, returned from the war. Even golden confetti was thrown into the air- Alfred grinned, pleased to walk through Diamonds feeling safe, not unwelcome, not constantly fearing that Francis would stab his back. The castle, like Alfred had suspected before, reflected golden light in the sun- it was an absolutely beautiful country.

And yet, Alfred anxiously awaited return to his own country, especially knowing how close Spades fared. As Francis walked into his castle quickly, just to make sure everything was running smoothly before he left for the island of Spades, Arthur rode up to Alfred, smiling warmly. "If this is what being a royal means, I would've signed up long ago."

Alfred laughed and agreed. Arthur had adapted so easily to royalty, though, it was difficult to remember what he had been like before. Recalling their first meeting, Alfred remember a young man that had certainly told him off, even if he didn't know Alfred was the King. Gazing at Arthur, he fondly supposed not much had changed.

Francis eventually rejoined them, and they eagerly set off for Spades. Yet, during the ride, Alfred's mind was plagued by thoughts and memories. Things perhaps _had_ changed for the better, conquering Clubs and all, but for Alfred, it had changed too drastically. He'd never been good at keeping secrets nor emotions locked up. On that basis, it would only be a matter of time before Arthur discovered _their_ past.

Alfred had been drawn to Arthur ever since they'd met. He'd just never expected that it was because they had loved each other in another life. It changed everything. If Alfred had been fond toward Arthur before, he was absolutely, completely doomed now: all of the love he'd had in the previous life for the Queen had not simply just dwindled away when they were shifted into this parallel universe.

His emotions constantly warred. If he made Arthur hold the reactor tube, he would remember. Maybe he would love Alfred back. Maybe he wouldn't. If he didn't tell Arthur, perhaps they'd fall in love anyway, and Alfred would be able to start over, to protect Arthur this time. After all, ignorance was bliss. He strongly favored the later reasoning.

"Alfred, look," Arthur breathed. They'd finally emerged out of the woods: across the channel of water lay the Kingdom of Spades.

—

Nothing was better than smelling the sea foam as they crossed the channel into Spades' territory. Arthur set sight on the shore, wind blowing his hair around every which way as the ship neared the dock, eager commoners tying them in. The Queen didn't look back once as he leapt off the side of the boat, boots thumping on the sturdy wood of the docks. Alfred and Yao followed, striding into the stone paths of the city where they were greeted by cheering people. Like a parade, the monarchy walked through the crowds on each side, who waved and shouted joyously. Arthur spotted an old acquaintance from his workplace at the docks, and walked into the crowd to say hello, but was promptly ambushed by his excited people, who asked him questions and honestly all manner of things. The women even flirted with him, laughing at his modesty as he flushed.

Yao noticed, and elbowed Alfred, pointing at the Queen. "Is... is he _socializing_ with the _people_?" Laughing, he mirthfully continued, "In all my life, I've never met a Queen like Arthur."

Alfred gazed at Arthur, reflected on how true those words were, and smiled as Arthur leaned down on his knees to talk to the small children who gazed at him with wide, amazed eyes. However, his reverie was broken as howls and jeers suddenly whisked from the crowd- Arthur turned and met his eyes, confused. Alfred opened his mouth to ask when Yao quietly said, "It's Ivan."

The mood turned sour and somber quickly. Ivan was led down the pathway toward the castle where he would be imprisoned. The people of Spades switched from exuberant to vile in seconds: Alfred could tell it frightened Arthur. He held out his hand for the Queen to join him, and quickly, Arthur took it, green eyes wide as he stayed close. Yao's lip curled in disgust and anger as he watched the scene unfold, people hurling all manner of items at the once great King of Clubs, jaw clenched, head still held high.

And Alfred was torn. _Does Ivan deserve this_ _?_ Painfully, he let his memories channel in, and winced. Arthur noticed, glancing up at him with worried eyes. "Al?" he murmured quietly, trying to keep his voice low.

Alfred's hand tightened around his. If they were anywhere else, he'd wrap Arthur in his arms, focus on keeping him safe and protected because he'd so terribly failed the last time. The jeers from the crowd echoed into his ears, and as he swallowed, one thought rang in his mind.

_Who is in the wrong here?_

—

Promptly, Ivan was taken to the dungeon and locked in the damp, rotting cells, and would stay there until the treaty was resolved. Alfred, Arthur, and Yao quickly looked over Spades' well-fare, pleased to see the economy was booming despite the recent war. Perhaps allying themselves with Diamonds would benefit them in the long-run after all.

Although the advisors were as stuck-up and snobby as ever, and many issues were yet to be resolved, Alfred felt high spirited. Ivan was locked away, Yao was treating him normally again, and Alfred started to truly believe this was his second chance. This world, as long as it didn't know who he used to be, would accept him.

Even though Alfred wanted acceptance of the world, there was one person whose acceptance he sought out over the rest. Said object of his affections sat beside him on the bench they had met in, just on the outskirts of the castle, under the Spadian tree. The spring breeze whisked Arthur's blonde hair side to side, his head tilted back slightly. Alfred eyed the curve of his throat and quickly flushed after realizing what he'd been thinking.

Despite his old memories, Alfred felt as if he were experiencing these feelings- falling for Arthur- all over again. Sighing out and relaxing, Arthur said, "It's beautiful this time of year."

Alfred warmly gazed down at him. "It is."

Smiling, Arthur looked up to the Spadian tree, its emblems clinking in the breeze. "Alfred, do you think the war is over? Do you think..." he trailed off, almost nervously. "Do you think we'll grow old together as partners?"

Alfred's hand sought out Arthur's, squeezing reassuringly though he didn't know the answer, though he knew too much and Arthur did not. "I'd like that, to be honest. I'd like to grow old with you."

Arthur didn't reply. Alfred thought he'd gone too far until he felt Arthur tentatively lean his head on his shoulder. Heart swelling, Alfred closed his eyes, the wind cooling his skin pleasantly, fingers twining with Arthur's as he rested his cheek against his Queen's head.

They had to return to the palace eventually, but as they returned, their fingers remained locked together. Alfred was absolutely positive then that he had fallen completely and utterly for Arthur Kirkland.

—

Yao quietly walked through the dark halls of the palace, carrying a tray of stale-looking food. Golden eyes darted around as he came to the end of the hall, making sure none had followed him before he pushed into a hidden door. It lead to stairs, dark, dingy, rotten- Yao carefully strode down them, looking up at the prison cell once he reached the bottom.

Ivan's violet eyes caught his in surprise. His wrists were chained to the wall, his beautiful coat had been ripped and dirtied, his wounds had never been cleaned. Yao felt his heart wrench and broke their gaze.

"Yao?" Ivan tried, voice raw. In the week he'd spent in the damp cells, his voice had grown weak from not using it. He was desperate for someone, anyone, to talk to, and though Yao prided himself on being stubborn and resolute, Ivan always had a way with his heart.

Striding closer, Yao kneeled, sliding the food under the bars. "I'm only bringing you food," he hissed, voice breaking slightly. He turned with every intention of leaving.

"Don't leave me," Ivan pleaded. His voice broke, too.

Yao's feet stopped in their tracks, fists squeezing shut. "Don't, Ivan."

"I'm-" The King took a ragged gasp for breath, desperately trying to stop him. Yao turned to gaze at him and saw the tears that welled in his eyes. He was reminded that Ivan was human, too.

"Stop playing this game with me," Yao whispered fiercely, trying and failing not to mirror Ivan's gaze.

"Everything I did was for you." The words fell out brokenly. Ivan tilted his head, jaw trembling. Yao gave a shuddering intake of breath, wordlessly staring back at the man he'd once called his King.

—

A messenger reported that the Monarchy of Hearts would not be arriving on time. They'd been stalled along the road by an uprising in a small town in the Kingdom of Hearts- it was nothing new. The districts of Hearts were known to cause trouble.

However, that pushed the treaty- and Ivan's trial- back two weeks. And Alfred felt impatient. For the first time in years, the usually tranquil people of Spades were growing in dissension. Perhaps it was because of Ivan's presence they grew distrustful.

But, Alfred told himself, it could wait until Hearts arrived. After all, what better way to celebrate victory in war than to host a grand ball? Alfred looked forward to the festivities, the dancing (because it was a tradition that the King and Queen always danced together), but most importantly, giving a certain ring in his right pocket (that he nervously could not stop touching) to a certain Queen.

Yao fussed over Arthur all day- Alfred wasn't even allowed to see him once until the night. That left Alfred with all the work, but he didn't mind being left alone with his thoughts. He signed petitions, finished the trade deal connecting Diamonds and Spades, and discussed a new foreign policy with Francis, who lit up Spades castle wherever he went. All the servants and nobles swooned over him, Alfred was sure.

As he was about to leave the library, a sheet of paper fell to the ground at his feet. Alfred picked it up and skimmed the paper, frowning. He'd missed this document. Blue eyes darkened as they fell across Ivan's name. The paper was a demand from the consensus of the nobles... insisting on Ivan's execution. Alfred lowered the paper, adjusting his reading glasses, breathing out sharply.

_Does he truly deserve to die?_

Deep down, Alfred knew the answer, and if anyone deserved to die, it was himself.

—

"Hold still! Why must you move everywhere!"

"It's not my fault!" Arthur snapped. "I can dress myself fine! I don't need help!"

Yao, exasperated, finally clasped the long cape into place on Arthur's chest (with the help of 5 servants holding Arthur still). "Sheesh. Now, was that so hard?"

"Yes."

Rolling his eyes, Yao stepped back from the Queen to gaze at him, shooing the servants out. There was only one piece missing from his regal attire: stepping closer, Yao held out the Queen's crown. He didn't miss the shake in Arthur's hands as he reached out for it and slipped it over his head. Yao had always thought the Queen's crown was the most beautiful, situated low on the forehead instead of up in the hair- it suited Arthur more than it had ever suited Yao. Allowing a small smile, the Jack murmured, "If I may, you look stunning."

Arthur laughed. "And I feel a hundred pounds heavier." Shaking his head, the Queen turned, facing the mirror. "Thank you, Yao. For... for all your help." Their eyes met as Arthur glanced over his shoulder at the Jack, biting his lip almost nervously.

"Is something wrong, Arthur?"

With a soft sigh, Arthur drew closer to Yao, voice quiet. "May... may I confide in you?"

"Of course," Yao said, trying his best not to reach out and pick a stray hair off the Queen's coat. "What troubles you?"

"I..." Arthur let out an anxious laugh, one that made Yao smile. "I think... Alfred and I... might possibly, er... fancy each other." His green eyes widened when Yao's did, and quickly continued before Yao could speak. "Slightly, of course! Just... slightly."

Confused, Yao started, "I thought we'd gone over this. Alfred told you that the relationship between the King and Queen... is platonic..." he trailed off, watching Arthur's brow furrow in confusion, and that was when Yao blanched, realizing the hole he'd dug himself into. _Oh, gods above. Alfred never told him what happens eventually to the Queen, about why they shouldn't have romantic relations. He's kept even all that a secret... how much is he willing to hide from Arthur?_

"What?" Arthur asked, slowly, head tilting. "Alfred never told me anything of that sort."

Yao carefully avoided falling over that cliff. "It's fine." Shaking his head, Yao exclaimed, "Now isn't the time for meaningless words! I still haven't explained the grand entrance you and Alfred will make. Come along, the ball is starting, I'll explain on the way!"

Thrown off-guard by the sudden hastiness, Arthur decided not to focus on Yao's strange words, although they left a particular resonance in his mind, one that would not dissipate so easily. He followed Yao out the door and through the halls of the palace, glancing out the windows they walked past. The town glittered below in the night, lit up with festive lights and decorations. Perhaps he could convince Alfred to sneak out with him into Spades and forget their duties for just one night. Yao rattled off instructions, but Arthur could barely hear over the pounding of his heart in his ears. Adjusting his crown, he tried not to think of all the eyes that would be on him tonight, especially as he made a "grand" entry like Yao so described.

"-and after you two walk down the steps, the people will cheer. The orchestra will swell, the lights will dim, and you and the King will lead the first dance, according to tradition-"

" _Dance?!"_ Arthur hissed out, green eyes wide. "I've never danced in my entire _life,_ Yao!"

"Oh, hush. Alfred will guide you."

Arthur wanted to faint. Apparently, there would be more eyes on him than he thought previously. He couldn't complain further, because Yao led him to a door, whispering, "Good luck." Breathing out sharply, Arthur heard him quickly walk away, and left alone in the dark halls of the palace, he awaited for the door to be opened by the servants.

Everything was happening too slowly and too quickly at once. The door opened- Arthur couldn't move. He was ready to make an embarrassing spectacle of himself until he caught Alfred's blue eyes from across the staircase. Dressed just as regally as Arthur was, Alfred walked out confidently, smiling at the Queen.

It was strange how one look could comfort Arthur, just slightly. He stepped down the first flight of stairs and joined Alfred, adjusting to the bright light in the ballroom, refusing to break their gaze as if it was his lifeline. The people on the first level silenced immediately, looking up at and watching their King and Queen, nobles and commoners alike. Alfred's hand touched Arthur's and their fingers brushed- Yao, watching below, thought the people had never been so enraptured by another monarchy as they were with Alfred and Arthur. Shaking his head and chuckling softly, he thought, _It's impossible for them not to fall in love, isn't it? And their love is something the people have never seen before in a monarchy of Spades. It is quite powerful. If only Arthur's fate could change, it would not be so tragic._

Everyone found themselves drawn to the monarchs as, hand in hand, they walked down the final steps and set foot on the shining ballroom floor. Vaguely Arthur heard a servant announce them, voice echoing through the golden-lit palace ballroom, telling of their victory of Clubs, and quite suddenly, the people began cheering and clapping. His eyes somehow caught Francis's figure amidst all the properly-dressed people, and noticed that he was grinning.

The lights then dimmed softly, and violins from the other side of the room started a beautiful tune. Arthur's sweaty palm gripped Alfred's, heart hammering in his chest as they turned toward each other. Smiling softly, Alfred guided Arthur's right hand to his shoulder, wordlessly conveying, _Trust me._

Arthur quietly released a breath as Alfred led him across the dance floor, a slow twirling at first, Arthur's long cape sliding lightly over the polished golden floor. They both grew comfortable with the motions and it wasn't long before they danced in wide circles across the ballroom, everyone watching in awe. How powerful the monarchy was to hold such undivided attention. Yet Arthur barely noticed anyone else in the room but Alfred, whose eyes gazed into his as they waltzed smoothly for what seemed hours to Arthur, as if they'd done this thousands of times before, a familiar routine.

The music swelled, a sign allowing others to join in the dancing. All around, people danced and swirled around the floor, but none rivaled the beauty with which the monarchy danced. When the song ended, the lights brightened once again, and people broke apart and clapped appreciatively, Arthur remained gazing at _his_ King, green eyes boring into blue. As chatter resumed in the ballroom, Alfred murmured, "You must be the most stunning man I've ever danced with."

Arthur laughed softly, his lips spreading into a grin. "Probably the _only_ man you've ever danced with." Biting his lip, he realized their hands were still joined together, fingers twining around each other. The urge to compliment Alfred struck Arthur, and trying not to sound like a nervous teenager, he said almost shyly, "You look wonderful tonight."

Alfred beamed, and it was all worth it. "So do you, Arthur." He opened his mouth to continue, but a certain boisterous King threw his arms around the King and Queen of Spades.

"How powerful you two are!" Francis exclaimed, passionately pretending he was going to faint. "I've never thought two people dancing could be so incredible!"

Unsure if Francis was being serious or not, Arthur glanced up at Alfred, who chuckled with a mischievous expression, "Could it possibly be more incredible than the punch?"

"Oh, _non!"_ The King of Diamonds replied, swishing his golden cape with unbridled flair. "Nothing is better-" He tilted his head up and guzzled down the drink obnoxiously- "than punch!" He finished, smacking his lips. His eyes suddenly honed in on his next target, a pretty noble, and excused himself quite flamboyantly, crying back, " _Au revoir_!"

Turning to Alfred with an impressed look, Arthur asked, "Did you actually _spike_ the punch?"

Alfred looked slightly proud as he replied, "Only his glass. He'll have the worse hangover in the morning."

The never-ending rivalry between the two Kings amused Arthur to no end. Grinning, he shook his head. "You sneak. Poor Francis can't handle being drunk."

Walking with his Queen over to the side of the ballroom where the food and drink were placed, Alfred snorted, "Poor Francis? If there are two words that don't go in a sentence, they are 'poor' and 'Francis.'" Each sipped on red punch- Arthur affectionately watched Alfred continue as his voice dropped softly, "If... if it would be alright with you, would you mind stepping outside with me for a short time?"

For some reason, Arthur's heart skipped a beat. "Of course. Where are we going?"

Alfred simply took his hand and the two made their escape. The cool air blew Arthur's neatly combed hair, but he didn't mind, following Alfred as he led them under their tree, just outside the Palace grounds. The King turned toward him, gesturing he sit down on the white bench- smiling, Arthur complied.

Nervously, Alfred paced the ground for a few moments, black boots scuffing the dirt, before coming closer to Arthur and taking both hands in his. Arthur tilted his head curiously, teasing, "And _why_ did you bring me out here?"

Breathing out sharply, Alfred said anxiously, "I wanted to ask you something. Something important." He swallowed and continued, "You... you and I... we make a great team. We have ever since we met each other. And coming out of this war, I realized... how much..."

"How much?" Arthur softly supplied, heartbeat sounding in his ears as he watched the breeze sweep Alfred's hair to the side.

"How much I truly care for you," Alfred tentatively murmured. Arthur's eyes were round and strikingly green, he noticed. "And... you must know..."

"Must... know?" Arthur echoed quietly, as if he knew what was coming.

"You must know how much I love you," Alfred breathed out quickly. He inwardly cursed at himself as his hands started to shake, sinking to the ground on one knee. One hand delved into his pocket, pulling out the gold ring and holding it out to Arthur. "You must know how much I want you to marry me."

Arthur stopped breathing completely, staring wordlessly at the ring with an incredulous, shell-shocked expression, lips parted slightly and eyebrows tilted up. Alfred feared he would pass out, and panicking, he opened his mouth to hurriedly take back everything that had just been foolishly confessed, when Arthur's eyes started to well up, a endearing side of him that Alfred had never seen before.

"Al, you idiot," he fiercely whispered, though it held no bite. His jaw trembled as he mouthed, a joyful whisper, " _Yes."_

Of all the emotions Alfred possessed, he didn't expect himself to become sentimental and misty eyed, laughing very, very softly. Both of their hands trembled as Alfred slid the golden band on Arthur's finger, kissing the back of his hand affectionately. The Spadian tree's delicate emblems clinked against each other in the wind like chimes, purple and black leaves rustling soothingly. Faint music from the ballroom carried over the wind and swept around them as Arthur cupped Alfred's cheeks with his hands and pressed his lips against the King's.


	9. Stained

A bridge of secrets now was forged. Between Alfred and Arthur there was the promise of a secret marriage; between Alfred and Yao was the knowledge of the horrid past and the Queen's future. Ivan knew that Alfred possessed the tube holding everyone's memory. And as Alfred laid beside a sleeping Arthur, pressed close against his chest, the King anxiously thought of the tangled web he was weaving. Carding fingers gently through blonde hair, Alfred felt cold dread fall upon him, and pressed his nose to Arthur's forehead, eyes squeezing shut.

The week waiting for the Monarchy of Hearts to arrive was hell. Alfred, plagued with guilt, became sleep-deprived, jumpy and irritable. The nobility of Spades started rioting on the streets, demanding execution of Ivan: the commoners uncertainly watched and waited, but it was only a matter of time before they joined in. The people of Clubs now were rebelling against the soldiers occupying their land, which was on the verge of collapse without its King. Yao edgily avoided Alfred, and servants reported tentatively that the Jack had been disappearing often. Even Francis seemed off, warily regarding everyone, keeping to himself.

Arthur didn't question anyone, although he sensed uneasiness, especially of Alfred. Although they were separated throughout the day, with Arthur constantly calming the people, trying to convince them that the nobility were just misunderstanding the situation, and Alfred working inside the castle, the Queen comforted Alfred when they were alone, even if he didn't fully understand what the King feared.

Walking through the hallway, Arthur readied to round a corner until he spotted Yao at the end of the hall, nervously glancing around. What made the Queen follow him, Arthur didn't know.

Yao pushed in a secret door on the wall, disappearing. Arthur quietly strode down the hall, feeling along the wall for the secret pathway. Green eyes glinting as he pushed it open, the Queen heard echoing footsteps down the dark stairs, and as he slowly neared, he heard the Jack conversing with none other than their prisoner.

Frowning, Arthur peeked around the corner, barely making out the two figures in the shadows of the prison. Yao held something out for Ivan and murmured, "I snuck this for you. Be grateful."

Arthur could imagine Ivan smiling. "Thank you. Any word from Hearts?"

_So, he's telling Ivan of what is happening._ "No. They're due to come any day now, but outside... the people are growing antsy." A bitter chuckle sounded. "You're quite unpopular."

Ivan laughed quietly. "I was thinking, Yao. About when we first became King and Queen."

Arthur blanched, eyes wide in confusion. He stilled his breathing, listening for a denial from Yao.

"I think about it, too."

"You could've stayed."

Arthur's heart lurched as Yao replied, "The minute I saw Alfred... just a young war-general... I knew I had to leave. I couldn't... help you kill him. He didn't even... he didn't even remember."

" _Now_ he remembers our past. You could kill him now. You could avenge us. Avenge Arthur."

_What the hell? What are they talking about?_ Racing up the stairs and out into the hall, Arthur decided he'd heard enough. Was Yao plotting with Ivan to kill the King? _But why did Ivan want to avenge me?_ Shaking his head in confusion, Arthur's footsteps echoed rapidly through the hallway.

As he neared Alfred's study, a hand grabbed Arthur's shoulder. Whirling around, Arthur glared into the eyes of Yao, who looked nervous and fearful. "What did you hear, Arthur?"

Clenching his jaw, Arthur hissed, "You're actually a Queen and you didn't _tell_ me? You plan to kill Alfred? I heard _everything!_ "

"Will you just listen?" Yao snapped. Arthur reluctantly let him continue, green eyes no longer furious but confused. Taking a deep breath, Yao started, "Yes, I _was_ the Queen of Clubs. But I left. My birthmark changed. I became the Jack of Spades."

"But... why did you leave? Why did you want to kill Alfred?"

"I don't want to kill Alfred, you idiot! I've already told him of my past!" Yao growled. "I left Clubs exactly _because_ I didn't want to kill him."

_Alfred knew Yao had been a Queen and didn't tell me? Why would he hide this?_ Arthur shook his head. "You left because Ivan wanted to kill him?"

Yao uncertainly looked away, voice dropping. "Yes."

"What wrong did Alfred do against Ivan?"

A long pause ensued, Yao's eyes darkening, refusing to look at Arthur. "You cannot tell me you haven't had memories of your past, Arthur. Have you ever recognized Alfred before? Doesn't he remind you of something?"

Arthur's breath stilled. "I..."

The door to the King's study opened suddenly. Both Queen and Jack jumped at the noise as Alfred walked out, appearing surprised to see them. "Arthur, I didn't expect you to be over here today. Are you and Yao busy?"

Glancing at Yao, Arthur stammered, "W-We were just talking about taxes."

"I'm busy," Yao curtly added. His eyes studied Alfred's briefly before he dismissed himself.

Alfred turned to Arthur with a soft look. "Is everything okay? You both seemed... off." Drifting closer, Alfred gently took his hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the ring on his finger.

The gesture was endearingly sweet. Deciding not to press Alfred even though Yao's words left a sick nervousness imprinted in his mind, Arthur smiled. "I'm fine."

_What are you hiding from me, Alfred?_

—

Although Arthur begged Yao whenever they were in private to continue where he left off, the Jack refused to disclose anymore information. He always left with the words, "It isn't my place to say."

A certain sense of dread fell upon Arthur. To the naked eye the situation seemed petty: Alfred had kept Yao's previous position as Queen a secret. It didn't seem a big deal. But there was more to the story, and as Arthur replayed Ivan's words in his mind, again and again, he arrived at the conclusion that Alfred was hiding much more from him than Yao's position. Ivan had told Arthur once that they were friends. That, in another life, Arthur looked and acted just the same as he did now. Yao confirmed that in another life- in the past- Arthur had known Alfred. Alfred had done something wrong, something to hurt Ivan, Yao...

_And apparently me._

Fingers traced patterns on his arm. Arthur pressed back against Alfred, unable to sleep, wishing to curl up in his King's embrace and never question him, to forget about the past that prodded insistently at his mind.

"Are you still awake?" Lips pressed against the skin behind Arthur's ear. Softly, Arthur hummed, melting as Alfred trailed kisses down his neck. He gripped the sheets, wanting to ask Alfred questions, but the King quietly continued, "I wish you and I had met before this."

The sheets rustled as Arthur turned, eyes searching Alfred's. "What do you mean?"

"We would've had more time," Alfred murmured, nosing Arthur's hair away from his forehead. Anxiously, Arthur shifted closer, hiding his confused eyes from Alfred. Perhaps he was overthinking it. Alfred probably meant that he wished they'd met when both weren't so busy with duties. But there was something about his words that made Arthur feel like he was missing something, something crucial.

_Are we running out of time?_

—

Alfred walked through the halls of the prison, rank and dirty, water dripping and collecting on the cracked grey floor. The place was appropriate for criminals deserving death, not the man he approached. Ivan lifted his head, violet eyes meeting Alfred's, cold and bitter.

"Come down here to mock me?" Ivan questioned, voice low and spiteful. His wrists, chained above his head to the wall, appeared bruised, as did his ankles, chained to the cold stone ground. He sat huddled against the grey, uneven stone, white clothes covered with dirt and mud, face streaked with grime. Water, dripping from the ceiling, collected in a puddle near his uncovered feet, his skin an unhealthy blue.

"I want you to tell me everything you know about the tube."

Ivan chuckled, tilting his head. "I'm surprised you haven't recognized it. It's the innermost shell... the core of the weapon you used to destroy us all. Ironic, isn't it? What killed us all... survived into this world... and gave us our memory."

Alfred bit his lip, hands curling into fists. "Be honest with me, Ivan, and this will be easy. Is there a way to return?"

His amused look quickly faded, eyes locked with Alfred's. "You wish to return to the past?"

"I want to make things right."

"No," Ivan said, eyes narrowing. "You want to save Arthur." Looking away, Alfred refused to reply. Ivan had his answer. Laughing bitterly, he continued, "You haven't changed at all, Alfred. You are still that man, and you will always be him, no matter what universe we're taken to after this world."

"Tell me how I can fix it."

"You can't fix it, Alfred. No matter how many time loops we live through after this, that first world... our lives as personifications... it will always have ended the same way. You can't change the past. However-" his eyes bored into Alfred's- "there is a way... we can all forget about it."

Jaw clenching, Alfred gritted out, "Permanently?"

"Permanently," Ivan echoed, eyes dark, haunting. "It's simple. Destroy the core. It carries the memories, yes?" Alfred turned to leave, his every intention to destroy the core immediately, but Ivan huffed, "Oh, don't bother. Do you know how many times I've tried, Alfred?" He let out a pained, bitter chuckle, eyes emotive and distraught. "There's only one person who can destroy the core. It's not you. It's not me."

Infuriated, Alfred whirled around and stalked out of the cell. Ivan called out, voice resounding throughout the damp, dark prison, "Running away? You haven't changed at all, _America._ "

—

"You must tell Arthur eventually."

Alfred turned, thoughts disrupted as Yao opened the door to his study, golden eyes narrowed. Standing, the King quietly replied, "You and Arthur were not talking about taxes yesterday. It just so happens that the walls in this palace are quite thin."

Yao lifted his chin, steadily staring back. "No, we weren't. But did you truly think the past would not find him?"

"I'm going to destroy the core. There will be no need to tell him of the past."

Laughing mockingly, Yao said, "How many times did Ivan tell me those same words? I can't count. It is indestructible, Alfred. The past can not disappear."

"Ivan said that _one_ person could destroy it." Alfred swallowed, walking closer to the Jack. "How does he know that?"

"In every stack of cards," Yao began, "There is a Joker. He's abnormal. He plays by different rules. He is given a certain magic from the land- knowledge- and must use this knowledge wisely." Yao brushed by Alfred into the shadowed room, lit by only a mere candle, and pulled a dusty, weathered book from the old bookshelf in the corner. Extending his arm, he held the book out to Alfred. "He has been here since time in this land began. Monarchs have documented his arrival at their Kingdoms. Their stories are all similar: the Joker appears near time of tension and strife, gives his knowledge to the monarchs, and then disappears for quite awhile."

Alfred swept through the book, wiping dust from certain worn pages, eyes landing on a shrouded figure with piercing scarlet eyes labeled _Joker_. "Why are you telling me this?"

"He came to Ivan and I, years before I left the Kingdom of Clubs. We'd heard the stories and welcomed him into our Kingdom. At the time, I had just discovered our past- Ivan wanted nothing but to destroy it, wipe it from our memories, as did I. The Joker simply laughed and said that it was easy- find the right person to destroy the core. He left the next day, and we've never seen him since."

The words sank in. Alfred closed the book, setting it on his desk, eyes searching Yao's. "The right person," he repeated softly. "How long have you been searching for the right person?"

Yao closed his eyes, biting his lip. "A very, very long time, Alfred."

—

Sure that the brown, worn cloak thrown around his shoulders made him blend in with the crowds in Spades, Arthur walked down the stone streets, observing his Kingdom. If you wanted to solve problems with people, after all, Arthur reasoned that it was wise to walk as one of them. Hood drawn over his blonde hair, shadowing his face, the Queen was confident he resembled a commoner.

The marketplace was quite busy. People swarmed through the streets like bees, buying and selling. It reminded Arthur of long ago, when he would raid the food stands with Francis, both orphans poor and hungry. How time had changed.

Not having paid attention to where he was walking, Arthur collided with someone. He reeled back and profusely started to apologize, but trailed off, gazing up at the shrouded man before him, who laughed.

"My fault," he shook his head, hood sliding down, revealing silver hair and friendly scarlet eyes. "I haven't been in Spades since..." he counted on his fingers comically. Arthur smiled. "Since a very long time," he concluded.

"You've lost your way?"

He shook his head once again, grinning. "Oh, no. I know exactly where I'm going. I fear, though, I am not used to the crowds." He reached for something in his pocket, and held it out to Arthur. "Take this as an apology, my friend." Arthur studied the gift: it appeared a fabric, folded several times into a compact square. He stuffed it into his pouch to open when he returned to the palace.

The strange man started to leave, but turned when Arthur called out, "Wait- what is your name?"

Smiling, he drew his hood over his head, and said, "Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt."

—

Arthur escaped the crowds and walked up the winding path to the palace of Spades, allowing his hood to fall, spring breeze sweeping his hair back and forth. Although he intended to return to the palace and work, the Queen found himself drawn to the Spadian tree, and sat on the white bench beneath it, gazing down at the capital city in the distance.

As the wind gently rustled the tree branches, Spadian emblems clinking together like icicles, Arthur searched for the gift he had been given by the strange man he'd bumped into. Pulling it out, he began to unfold it- blue, white, and red- strange colors for a fabric, he mused. Finally, it unravelled completely-

_England!_ A voice calls. _Look! The sun's come up! Everything's going to be fine-_

Jolting, Arthur released the fabric, gripping the bench in shock, breaths coming in short gasps. The blue, white, and red fell to the dirt, colors suddenly very, very familiar. Eyes widening, Arthur stared at the flag- _his_ flag- and garbled memories flew through his brain, though he couldn't sort them out. The voice had been Alfred's, hadn't it?

Resolutely, he decided to pick up the flag again, but just as his fingers brushed against the fabric-

"Arthur!"

He bolted in his seat, releasing the flag and spinning around to meet Alfred. Before he could say anything, Alfred's gaze fell upon the flag near Arthur's boots. His eyes widened in unbridled, utter disbelief and shock, and strode close to Arthur, quietly yet lividly demanding, "Where the hell did you find that?"

For some reason, Arthur felt guilty, as if he'd let Alfred down, and fearfully stammered, "I-I... a man-"

Alfred impatiently grasped his arms and stilled him, commanding, "Go inside the palace. Immediately." Arthur obeyed, racing away from the site and into the palace, heart pounding furiously. Alfred had never used such tone of voice with him before- had the flag scared him as much as it did Arthur?

Racing upstairs, Arthur took refuge in his room, shutting the door swiftly behind him. Breathing out shakily, he slumped against the wall, trying to make sense of what was happening. Striding slowly toward the window, Arthur watched as soldiers were ordered to burn the flag, watched with horrified eyes as the fabric lit up in flames.

The door behind him opened and shut. Footsteps clicked on the marble floors. Alfred quietly called out his name. "Arthur. Are you... are you okay?"

"Am I?" Arthur turned, sure that his expression was frightened and incensed and bewildered all at once. "You... you've been hiding things from me." His voice grew louder, almost furious. "Ever since we returned from Clubs, you've been hiding things. You have the gall to ask if I'm _okay?_ "

Angrily running a hand through his hair, Alfred hissed, "It's not like that-"

"Not like what?! You knew Yao was a Queen- _Ivan's_ Queen- and you didn't bother to tell me? Yao tells me that in our past, in another world, you did something to wound Ivan, and Ivan therefore seeks vengeance- did you know that, too? Did you keep that from me as well?!"

"I'm trying to protect you, Arthur!" Alfred shouted, striding closer to the Queen. "I'm trying to fix things!"

"So you'd _lie_ to me?"

"You don't underst-"

"Do enlighten me, Alfred!" Arthur snarled, throwing his hands up in an angry gesture. "What don't I understand? Why would you-"

Alfred suddenly gripped his shoulders and pushed him against the wall, crying out, "I couldn't save you!"

Everything stilled, quieted. Arthur's eyes widened. Alfred's jaw trembled and his hands sought purchase in Arthur's coat as he repeated, "I couldn't save you." His forehead touched Arthur's chest, shoulders convulsing in silent sobs that wracked powerfully throughout his entire body.

Arthur, stunned, stared at the opposite wall, arms tentatively winding around Alfred's waist as he came undone before him. "But... I'm here. I'm okay, Al. I'm okay."

Alfred shook his head, fingers sliding up and cupping his cheeks. Their eyes met as the King lifted his head, tears staining his face: Arthur, dismayed, searched Alfred's terrified, devastated gaze. "If I tell you, you will hate me," he quietly explained, voice breaking as he continued, "And if I lose you..."

"You won't lose me," Arthur whispered, drifting impossibly closer, his nose brushing against Alfred's. "I love you."

Alfred closed his eyes, breathing out sharply, and pressed his forehead to Arthur's, fingers trembling as they twined with his Queen's. After a long, silent moment, he straightened and tugged Arthur's hand softly, wordlessly leading him out of their room and down the halls to his study.

Whatever lay beyond that dark door scared Arthur immensely. He gripped Alfred's hand- both of their palms were sweaty as the King opened the door with a shrill creak and led him into the shadowed, eerie room. Swallowing quietly, Arthur watched as Alfred released his trembling hand and started to nervously search for something in his desk. Blue eyes finally found Arthur's, wordlessly conveying for the Queen to come over.

Slowly, Arthur inched forward, clenching his jaw. Alfred held out a black tube that glowed ice blue, whispering, "You don't have to do this if you don't wish."

As the blue glow reflected into Arthur's green eyes, it dawned on Arthur that whatever was behind this mysterious item would drastically change everything. He gazed at Alfred, unsure if he wanted to surrender everything he'd worked so hard to build. But, gathering the shreds of his resolve, Arthur reached out, fingers grasping the tube.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Two more chapters to go! Thank you (and apologies for the wait), everyone who reads and reviews. This story is turning into a soap opera/drama, and I am so sorry for that. Oh, funny story about how Cardverse ruined my life: I was playing poker the other night and a King and Queen of Spades came out on the table right next to each other, so I freaked out and screamed, "ALFRED! ARTHUR! YOU'RE TOGETHER FOREVER!" I'm pretty sure now my family thinks I'm mentally unstable. Thanks, Hetalia.
> 
> By the way, the words Arthur heard in that flashback were from the second to last chapter of my other fiction, Airacobra. Just in case you wanted to know, they are the most important words Arthur has ever heard. (If you want to know why that is, read Airacobra.)


	10. Fall

_How the hell did he pass out, Alfred?!_

_I did as you said. I showed him the past._

Head throbbing, Arthur suddenly became aware of his surroundings, though he refused to open his eyes. Instantly, memories flooded through his mind, a great, terrifying deluge he had forgotten in his sleep. His heartbeat escalated, fingers gripping sheets beneath him until someone's hand touched his.

"Arthur," Alfred called softly. "Arthur, you're hurting yourself."

Realizing he'd drawn blood from his own lip, Arthur forced himself to open his eyes, though he didn't want to see the truth. The instant blue eyes met green, Arthur knew it hadn't been a dream. His heart broke as Alfred's hand gripped his and the King smiled, regretfully and anxiously.

He wanted to slap Alfred's hand away and draw it closer at the same time. He wanted to scream at Alfred for betraying him but wanted to cry in his arms, wanted to be held, wanted to comfort and be comforted. Arthur tasted the blood on his tongue, biting his lip harshly: it was the only way to restrain an outburst.

Alfred, as if realizing finally that everything was different now, released Arthur's hand and looked down with sorrowful eyes. Neither spoke until he murmured, voice wavering, "You passed out. It scared me."

Arthur must have fallen the same way he'd fallen when he'd been killed by Alfred's weapons in the past. The image had probably terrified Alfred, to see his Queen falling to the ground the same way England had. At a loss for words, Arthur swallowed and looked away, unsure if he was devastated or furious or both.

The door opened and Yao tentatively stepped in with a soft expression. "Alfred, you've tended to him for hours. Get some rest."

Alfred nodded weakly, glanced at Arthur, who wouldn't look him in the eye, and left. Yao sighed out and sat on the side of the bed, gazing at the Queen. For a while, they sat in silence.

"I am sure Alfred wants you to know everything," Yao began quietly. "He probably intended to tell you this before you passed out." Arthur remained silent, staring out the window, eyes starting to burn threateningly. "As the Queen, you..." Yao trailed off weakly. "You must protect your Kingdom. Remember when I told you that the relationship between the monarchy was platonic? That is because the Queen... the Queen, to replenish the land its magic, must sacrifice herself. She... she is what keeps the land itself alive."

Arthur's eyes met his, and promptly, he burst into tears. A hand covered his mouth, eyes squeezing shut as sobs sent tremors through his entire body, shoulders shaking. Yao said nothing, gripping his hand, a wordless apology. To Arthur, dying for his Kingdom was not the thing that made his emotions flare up. It was the fact that Alfred had hidden not only his past but his _future_ as well. It was the fact that Arthur _knew_ Alfred stood right outside that door, just as devastated, as he heard everything that was said in the room he'd just left.

As the King had told his Jack, after all, the walls in the palace were thin.

—

Though it would take time to heal, Alfred, Arthur, and Yao had to act as if nothing had happened. After all, work was to be done, and with Hearts finally arriving the next day, everyone was busy preparing the palace for their arrival. To Arthur's relief, he barely ran into Alfred once, giving him time to gather his thoughts.

Francis, although he noticed a change in Arthur's demeanor, said nothing aside from a questioning look in private. However, Arthur suspected he knew more than he let on, especially when he clasped Arthur's shoulder comfortingly and followed him around throughout most of the day with preparations. It was a welcome distraction, having someone who made Arthur laugh.

Yet, the sun eventually fell, and Arthur retreated to his quarters nervously. Luckily, Alfred wasn't inside waiting. Closing the door behind him and stepping out of his boots, Arthur walked into the dark room, bare feet against the cold marble floor, peering out the balcony window at the lights of the capital city below. _Perhaps,_ he thought, _it would have been better if I'd stayed miserable down there._

Arthur, drawing the grey curtain halfway, slid off his coat and unbuttoned his flannel shirt. It slipped off his arms and to the floor, leaving his chest exposed as he rummaged through the drawers for one of Alfred's large shirts. The door opened again, light flooding into the room in sections- Arthur froze, head turning softly to Alfred. He stepped in and closed the door, leaving them alone in the shadowed room.

Flushing, Arthur held one of Alfred's grey shirts close to his chest, hoping that it covered at least some of his bare chest. Alfred walked closer, their eyes meeting, unsure and yearning all at once.

"Perhaps I should stop trying to protect you," Alfred softly laughed, using dry humor to break the tension. "It doesn't seem to work in my favor, yeah?"

Arthur looked away, trying and failing not to be awkward and mess things up more. Alfred's face fell, much like it had previously, but he didn't give up. "I know you are angry," he said quietly. "I know things will be different now. All I ask for is your forgiveness."

Affection wouldn't die out in a day's events. Smiling softly, Arthur tried to reason that the Alfred then was nothing like the Alfred now, and murmured, "I hold nothing against you, my King."

Alfred smiled, too, but wanly, as if he knew he'd lost something important. As they settled into bed, Arthur faced away from him, and didn't seek out the embrace he'd grown so used to. Everything reverted back to square one. Though Arthur still felt betrayed, he started to feel empty without Alfred, as well.

—

The castle was a mad-house moments before Hearts arrived. Of all days, the nobles had chosen today to riot behind the gates of the palace, shaking the black metal bars ferociously, shouting and yelling wildly for Ivan's death. Alfred upped security around the castle, but he seemed out of it- books and documents were scattered everywhere across the palace, having been unknowingly left behind by a frazzled, tired King.

Arthur sent a messenger to the docks in order to let the incoming monarchy of Hearts know they would be late to pick them up. As he tried to quickly organize Alfred's workspace, a stray document fluttered to the ground. Huffing in frustration, Arthur bent over and picked it up, shuffling it with the others when his eyes caught Ivan's name.

Making sure the door was still closed, Arthur quickly skimmed over the letter, a demand from the nobility that Ivan be killed. Eyes widening, Arthur realized it had been in Alfred's stack of petitions to be approved.

A knock on the door jolted Arthur. Swiftly he hid the paper under the stack, pretending to finish sorting Alfred's desk as the King walked in.

"All organized?" He asked distantly. Arthur nodded, glancing at Alfred. The King touched his shoulder- Arthur involuntarily flinched away.

Alfred withdrew his hand with a pained expression, opening his mouth to say something, perhaps apologize, when Francis walked in. He eyed the two suspiciously, announcing, "Hearts has arrived at the docks. Yao left to retrieve them."

Swallowing, Arthur walked away from Alfred and to Francis, accompanying him out of the room. Wordlessly, they walked through the halls- Arthur could tell Francis itched to speak his mind. "What?"

"What?" Francis echoed, trying to look nonchalant.

"You obviously have something to say to me. Spit it out."

Francis stepped in front of him. "Something has changed. The Arthur who danced with Alfred days ago is not the Arthur whom stands before me."

Disdainfully, Arthur sniffed and looked away. "Is that all? I have business to attend to-"

The King of Diamonds cut him off by gripping his hand and holding it up in front of both of them. He pointed to the golden ring on Arthur's finger. "You are obviously in love with him."

Flushing, Arthur ripped his hand away and brushed by Francis, hissing, "Mind your own business." Francis whirled around and grabbed his wrist, tugging him back. They glared at each other, but broke apart as a servant timidly spoke, "Yao has returned with the monarchy of Hearts."

Brushing off his coat, Arthur walked after the servant, leaving Francis staring after him with eyes narrowed. As he approached the castle doors, Arthur halted, glancing down at his fingers. The golden band glinted- the memories of that night, the night Alfred had danced with him, proposed to him, came back to the Queen. Arthur bit his lip, glaring at the ring, urging himself to take it off.

He couldn't. For some reason, he couldn't.

—

At last, the three remaining Kingdoms gathered together, discussing the fate of Clubs in Spades' conference room. Alfred coughed and began speaking from his seat between Yao and Arthur. "We have much to decide. What topic do we agree to start on?"

Rigidly, Ludwig shifted. The monarchy of Hearts looked exceedingly uncomfortable. "How will we split Clubs?"

"Should we even cut you a deal?" Yao spoke up, glaring at the other King. "You abandoned us."

"He was protecting his Kingdom," Feliciano growled.

Alfred tapped his fingers against the table thoughtfully. Glancing to Yao and Arthur, he said, "Spades has already come to agreement on how we want the land divided. Half of the land will go to King Francis, including the capital city. Hearts will take the strip of land touching their border, stopping within the 5 mile radius of the capital city. Spades will take the far west."

Kiku and Feliciano stared at their King uncertainly. Ludwig, straight-faced, replied, "We supported you in the first battle. Give us at least 10 percent of the west."

"5 percent is as high as we'll go," Arthur shot back.

Ludwig remained silent, closing his eyes. Eventually, he nodded. "Fine. And what is to happen of Ivan?"

Everyone quieted as the King of Clubs' fate was addressed. Arthur saw Alfred's gaze darken. "You have seen how he has affected my Kingdom. What do you think is fit?"

Shrugging, Ludwig crossed his arms across his chest. "The way Hearts sees it, there are only two options. One, he rots in prison. Two, he is executed."

Yao visibly stiffened. Though Arthur had felt hatred toward Ivan before, now that he knew the truth... was Ivan truly deserving of execution?

"Then, we take a vote. We will start with Francis and end with Arthur."

Arthur's heart sped up as his name was said, but all eyes turned to Francis. The King of Diamonds sighed out and crossed his legs, brow scrunching together as he thought. "Imprisonment."

Kiku was next, eyes downward as he murmured, "Execution."

"Execution," Ludwig echoed, and Feliciano after him. It was three verse one.

Yao ran a nervous hand through his long hair, eyes catching Arthur's. The Queen tried to look as encouraging as possible in the tense situation. "Imprisonment."

The tide would turn with Alfred's vote. With baited breath, everyone anticipated the King's decision. He tapped his fingers against the wood desk, eyes unfocused.

_He knows that Ivan does not deserve this. He will choose imprisonment._

"Execution."

Furiously, Yao's seat screeched against the marble floor as he stood, fists hitting the table. Shocked, Arthur's eyes widened, staring at Alfred in horror. Francis leaned back in his seat, tilting his head as the Jack hissed out, "You _know_ he doesn't deserve death! How could you kill him twice?! You're _sick_!"

The monarchy of Hearts looked bewildered. Alfred refused to look at Yao, replying, "This is not the past. He tried to kill all of us. You must remember that neither Arthur nor I even remembered the past- Ivan acted unreasonably." Before Yao could speak, Alfred turned to Arthur, blue eyes searching green. "What is your vote, my Queen?"

Gritting his teeth, Arthur spoke, "If we kill Ivan, we are no better than he." It didn't matter. He was outvoted three to four. Arthur looked away, Francis's hand touching his comfortingly. "Imprisonment."

"Then we have reached a decision," Ludwig started, still confused concerning Yao's words. "What time will the execution take place?"

Alfred paused, eyes emotionless. "Tomorrow morning."

Yao, enraged, stormed out of the room, door slamming behind him. Alfred dissolved the meeting and stood- Arthur, furious, strode up to him, gripping his arm as soon as they exited the room. "How _could_ you?"

Clenching his jaw, Alfred hissed, "What happened in the past will stay there." His eyes darted to the right, then back to Arthur.

"You're hiding something," Arthur whispered, stunned, shaking his head slowly. " _Again,_ you'd lie to me?"

Alfred's hands grabbed his shoulders, holding him firmly. "I'm not going to kill him. I'm trying to fix everything," he fiercely claimed, eyes glinting. "Things must happen this way. You must trust me, Arthur. Do you trust me?"

The words confused and frustrated Arthur exceedingly. "Just... just _tell_ me, Alfred! Tell me what you're doing!" He pleaded quietly. "Because I feel like you're betraying me over and _over_ and if-"

An infuriated snarl interrupted him- turning, Arthur was pushed out of the way by Alfred as Yao assertively shoved the King backwards. " _Fixing_ everything? Now you claim you won't kill him?! What type of sick game is this to you?!" Yao screeched, striding forward to shove Alfred again, but this time, Arthur stepped in front of Alfred, protecting his King. Yao stared at him in shock.

"He's..." Arthur glanced back at the King, eyes searching his. "He is our King. We must trust him."

—

At dawn, the execution was held at the sporting arena in the capital city. People, commoners and nobles alike, filed into the seats, all cheering and whooping in excitement- there was nothing more thrilling than an execution. Carriages carrying royals and aristocrats to the event extended down the road in a long line. Commoners crowded around the base level, peering above heads just to see the prisoner. To Arthur, it was sickening. He wondered, if he were still a commoner, would he have also attended this execution?

In the stands protruded a box meant only for the monarchy: Arthur gripped his throne, rigid in his seat, crown heavy and uncomfortable on his head. Alfred sat in the middle, calm and regal, watching the arena closely, as if looking for someone. Yao, on the King's other side, caught Arthur's eyes- he looked fearful and anxious, a mirror image of the Queen.

A stone door opened at the far end of the arena. Ivan was finally led out into the enormous arena, shackled, feet kicking up dust as he was forced to stand in the center. The noise rose significantly as the people screeched in excitement, a deafening and horrendous sound that made Arthur's heart race. A soft sound of distress tore from Yao's throat as he leaned forward in his seat, eyes wide as Ivan looked up to the monarch's box.

A man's voice boomed through the arena, speaking of the reasons for Ivan's execution. Arthur began to panic, looking to Alfred and asking, "Why aren't you doing anything?"

Alfred stared straight ahead, eyes narrowed. "Wait."

Wild, excited screaming echoed throughout the arena as the man finished. Soldiers, all holding guns, advanced forward, marching across the dirt toward Ivan, who didn't even flinch in this terror. Yao glanced agitatedly at Alfred and cried out, "Do something!"

The King didn't reply. Arthur, stomach churning in dread, watched the scene unfold before him with unbelieving eyes. People in the crowds started to stomp their feet savagely, drums to a death march. Yao, terrified, bolted up and ran to the edge of the box, grasping the ledge, his voice lost in the wildness of the people as he cried out for Ivan.

The soldiers raised their guns, pointed at a single figure, refusing to cower before them. The general of the soldiers, in the front stands, raised his hand high, a signal to ready their weapons. The pounding of feet against stone became louder, wilder- Arthur, eyes wide with horror, shouted above the noise, "Alfred!"

Gunshots rang out, but at the same time, something jumped into the arena, and the second it touched the ground, shockwaves exploded outward. Dirt was kicked up, forming a cloud that swept through the entire arena, blowing back the people who cried out in alarm. Arthur gripped his seat and closed his eyes as the dust forcefully hit his face- as it settled, he ran to the ledge of the box, leaning over it beside Yao in shock.

A low, frightened murmur was now the only noise that left the crowd. The dust cloud cleared- protecting Ivan was a forcefield, transparent, and in front of him knelt a very familiar shrouded figure. Mouth opening, Arthur whispered, "Gilbert?"

The forcefield flickered away. Gilbert stood, swept off his hood, and stared up at the box. "It would seem I came just in time... _King._ "

Yao's hands trembled, eyes wide. "You... you summoned the Joker?" Arthur grabbed his forearm, steadying him, and both turned to Alfred, eyes wide.

The King strode forward, head held high. "You told me he only came in time of strife between monarchies," he murmured, smiling softly, placing a strong hand on Yao's shoulder. "So, I had no other choice."

"What?" Arthur asked, confused. "What is the Joker?"

"He... He has the knowledge to fix everything," Yao whispered, staring at Alfred reverently. "The Joker came to Ivan and I long ago, claiming that we could forget out past if the right person destroyed the core. Like Alfred said, he only appears in time of strife."

It finally stuck Arthur- everything made sense. Alfred was trying to fix his mistakes- he was going to destroy the core, and everyone's memory of the past would be destroyed with it. The only way he could do that was to summon the Joker for help. He voted for execution to create tension between the monarchy- it was the only way the Joker would appear.

Arthur regarded his King carefully as their eyes met. The man was truly brilliant under pressure. Alfred smiled, ushering his monarchy to follow him down to the arena ground. Arthur trailed close behind him, still in shock. _He was lying to protect us all._ His eyebrows suddenly furrowed in confusion. _But... I ran into Gilbert in the town. He was here before Alfred even summoned him. Could he have known he would be needed soon?_

They finally stepped foot into the arena, facing the Joker, who stood beside Ivan. "So," Gilbert started. "You've caused this ruckus and almost killed a man for my attention. I must say," he chuckled, "I'm flattered."

Alfred didn't look amused, but calmly replied, "You told Ivan that only one person could destroy the tube. I need your help in finding that one."

The crowd still watched and murmured in confusion- while none could hear Alfred's low voice, speculations arose as to why Ivan had not been killed and who this mysterious newcomer was. Gilbert eyed Alfred, then cleared his throat. "I'll say this once and only once, so listen closely. The man you seek to destroy the core will be uncovered only at the Initiative. Travel there, and you'll have your wish. You'll forget the past. _All_ of the past."

And like that, Gilbert held his hand up to the sky, and disappeared.

—

Quickly, Ivan was led by the arm into the monarch's carriage. The people, still confused, spread rumors of Ivan's failed execution: in other words, public opinion regarding the Monarchy of Spades dropped significantly. What the mobs would do, Arthur didn't know, and he didn't want to stick around to find out.

The second the castle doors closed behind them, the monarchy of Hearts, led by a furious Ludwig, stormed up to them. Alfred protectively stood in front of his monarchy and Ivan, glaring down at the other King despite Ludwig's superior height. "What is the meaning of this? We had a deal!"

Yao, gripping Ivan's arm, growled, "So did we, until you broke it. Now we're even, _King._ "

Ludwig would have said more if Alfred hadn't pushed past him, leading his monarchy into his study and locking the door. Arthur's eyes adjusted to the darkness slowly, watching Alfred as he neared, voice dropping low in pitch. "What is the Initiative Gilbert spoke of?"

Ivan's violet eyes glinted in the shadowed room. "It's a factory."

"A factory where?" Arthur asked, an urgent whisper.

"In Diamonds."

The familiar voice that chimed in made everyone jump, eyes wide. Francis snorted, sitting at Alfred's desk in the corner of the room, feet propped up on the wood. Alfred growled, "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"You think I am stupid, King Alfred?" Blue eyes shining with calm rage, Francis lifted up the glowing core he'd found in Alfred's study into sight. He stood, golden cape dragging behind him, eyes narrowed and dark. Arthur swallowed quietly, a hand drifting to the pistol hidden at his side, fingers hovering above the metal just in case. Every step Francis took echoed through the room, ominous. "Did you think you could hide the core forever?"

A pin could be heard dropping in the room. Arthur sucked in his breath- Francis had discovered the past, too.

"Francis-" Alfred began, cut off by the sound of several revolvers clicking.

Francis pointed his pistol at Alfred, but promptly, Arthur stood in front of his King, pointing his revolver back at Francis. Yao's eyes widened, standing close to Ivan, who watched with a surprised expression.

"You'll have to go through me to get to him," Arthur spoke softly, green eyes flickering challengingly.

Francis, infuriated, hissed, "He killed you! He killed all of us! How could you side with him?"

Arthur glanced back at a wide-eyed Alfred. "I made mistakes in that life, too," he murmured quietly. "As the British Empire." Turning his gaze to Francis, the Queen continued, "Come with us, Francis."

"To the Initiative?" Francis echoed, finally lowering his pistol. "Why are you going there?"

Coughing, Alfred broke in, "Someone there can destroy the core. We'll forget the past."

Eyes flickered back and forth. Francis warily regarded the others in the dim room, breathing in slowly as he nodded. "Fine."

—

Spades was in crisis. Everyone- nobles and commoners alike- screamed for justice, rattling the bars of the castle gates, demanding Ivan's death, demanding an explanation of what had happened in the arena.

Promptly, Hearts left, furious at the monarchy of Spades. As Arthur watched their carriage depart, spring breeze brushing his hair to the side, a hand touched his shoulder. Glancing up, Arthur's eyes met the scarlet of Gilbert, grey, worn hood drawn over his head. "What are you doing here?" Arthur asked, tilting his head.

"I've come to say good luck," he replied, smiling.

The wind gusted against the two figures, two cloaks purple and grey blowing out. Two pairs of eyes focused on the carriage that continued down the path, down the green hills toward the city of Spades, toward the docks. "He was your brother, wasn't he?" Arthur murmured, glancing up at Gilbert.

Gilbert hummed, his smile soft. "Ludwig- how is he?"

"Angry."

Bright laughter rang through the air. "He always was." Glancing down at the Queen, the Joker observed, "You haven't asked me why I gave you the flag, but you must be wondering."

"Well, I haven't the slightest idea," Arthur admitted. "But I'm starting to think you bumped into me on purpose."

"I knew Spades would need me soon. But none of you were ready for me to reveal myself, nor ready to hear my message." Amused Gilbert looked as he huffed, "So, I became the catalyst."

"I see," Arthur mused quietly.

Gilbert paused, then touched Arthur's shoulder again, comforting. "I know you fear the future. But the people you know, and the people you see here-" he gestured down at the capital city- "will live on, in the next life and the next- a never ending universe for us all. No matter what we remember, what we forget, Arthur, we all will be together- always. Do you understand?"

The deeper meaning behind his words gave Arthur hope. "I think so."

Neither spoke after that, continuing to look out at the peaceful morning sky.

—

It rained extensively after Gilbert left. The monarchy of Spades, Francis, and Ivan prepared to depart for the Initiative, long, dull cloaks thrown over their shoulders and hoods drawn above their heads. The advisors had been coaxed into watching the castle: Alfred had lied that they were headed to Clubs to check over the boarders.

They stepped out into the night, rain pelting heavily down. Boots splashed in deep puddles swelling in the cement roads as five figures trod into the stables. Yao pulled his hood lower, golden eyes flickering as a large hand gently grabbed his wrist, turning him around. Ivan gazed down at him, eyes fearful yet warm. "I do not know what awaits us," he explained softly. "So let me make up for lost time."

Ivan leant forward, eyes half-lidded, searching Yao's. Their breath mingled together as Yao touched the side of his face, closing his eyes for one simple moment.

They set out into the night for the Kingdom of Diamonds. Crossing the channel that separated the two Kingdoms, the five monarchs entered once again into Francis's territory, covertly following the King into his woods, where he quietly said the Initiative was rumored to exist. It had been an old factory, responsible for mining coal and iron ore- Francis warned of the deep holes in the ground. The Initiative was dangerous and had been abandoned for more than 50 years, before Francis had even ascended to the throne.

Dawn broke beyond the trees as the group rested for an hour. Light streamed through the holes in the trees, illuminating the make-shift campsite, making the green glow a soft gold, eerie and beautiful.

Ivan, Yao, and Francis all huddled together, sleeping- someone snored obnoxiously, but it barely miffed Arthur, too focused on Alfred, resting close to his back. For the first time in roughly a week, an arm tentatively wound around Arthur's waist.

This time, Arthur didn't flinch away. Biting his lip and exhaling sharply, overcome with emotion, he touched Alfred's hand and turned, burying his face in the chest of a surprised Alfred. Looming over them was the past, ugly and haunting, but Arthur started to realize that what was done was done- playing the victim wouldn't help anything. Ignoring and hurting Alfred because he himself hurt was childish and would solve nothing. Alfred was here, and he was real, and he was everything Arthur wanted, needed, loved.

Fingers carded through his hair, across his cheek, down his side. Arthur realized he didn't want to erase the past, because though it had been stained with murder, there was still _good_ that he remembered, goodness that he didn't want to forget.

 _But Alfred can't live with that forever,_ Arthur thought, curling closer to his King. _Though I don't wish to be rid of the past, I'll comply for Alfred's sake._

Lips touched his forehead, Alfred murmuring against his skin, "I remember when I first fell in love with you. You and I were in that stupid war, fighting on the same side. We were pilots. You helped me paint the words on that stupid plane, remember?"

Laughing softly, Arthur whispered, "Funny. I fell in love with you in that moment, too."

—

Eventually, as the sun rose high in the sky, the group neared a clearing, peering up at unstable structures that towered in the sky and dirt piled into high mountains. The factory was indeed abandoned, metal beams rusting, precariously dangling from old unused buildings. It looked more like a garbage wasteland than a factory.

Francis pointed a few feet ahead and said, "The dirt falls away into a gigantic hole in the ground over there. Be careful. It's at least 70 feet deep."

"We'll split into groups and meet back here in an hour," Alfred announced. His hand touched Arthur's wrist, an unspoken request. Ivan and Yao went one way and Francis, Arthur, and Alfred went the other.

Alfred stepped over metal shards sticking up dangerously from the dirt, eyes scanning the wasteland for any sign of a person. Arthur and Francis trailed beside him, eyes alert and waiting.

A loud creaking sound erupted from behind the three. Arthur jolted, heart jumping in his chest, instinctively drawing closer to Alfred as they all spun around. A metal beam dangled above on a precarious structure- everyone froze, eyes wide, daring not to move as the metal shook, slightly sliding off the other beam it was balanced on.

Everything quieted. Alfred called out, "Ivan! Yao! Are you alright?"

From several paces away, Yao shouted, "We're fine!"

Warily, Alfred gestured for Arthur and Francis to follow him again, reaching the bolted doors of a small building, barely jutting out from the mound of dirt one half was buried under. The King of Spades turned, reaching into his coat, and pulled out the core. He handed it to Arthur, murmuring, "Hold this for me."

Arthur nodded and held the core, wrapped in cloth, as Alfred broke open the door, echoing in the dark room presented to them. They glanced at each other, Alfred waiting for an objection- no one spoke. Footsteps clicked against the dusty floor as the walked in cautiously.

Dirt had sunk through the roof, piled up to the ceiling, effectively blocking the rest of the room. However, there was a single screen that remained on the wall- Francis whispered, "How is this technology here?"

Arthur shook his head, just as confused. Alfred turned, surveying the entire room, calling out, "Hello?"

No one answered. Arthur started to doubt Gilbert's words. Had he lied? Could this have been an elaborate ruse to trick the monarchy into leaving a dissolute Spades?

Francis sighed out, boots echoing in the dark room as he turned. He opened his mouth to speak when the screen started to hum. The three turned toward it, watching closely- it did nothing, just remained black.

"Must be a generator," Alfred guessed, turning around. Francis followed him out.

Staring at the screen in confusion, Arthur thought, _Something's going on. Something that Gilbert didn't tell us._ The pressing need to leave and leave immediately hit Arthur hard, making him jump skittishly when Alfred asked, "You coming?"

Nodding, Arthur turned, walking out into the bright light. He blinked and squinted his eyes, following Francis back to where they started, a solemn silence looming over the group. The same question struck everyone- had Gilbert lied?

"This makes no sense," Francis said, glancing back at the King and Queen who followed behind. "The Joker does not lie. There must be _someone_ here that can destroy the core."

"If Ivan and Yao haven't found anything, we need to leave. It's too dangerous." Alfred looked out at the large hole they carefully walked past, huge and rusted metal beams suspended over it. Arthur shuddered and pressed closer to Alfred, palms sweating with the burden he carried.

They stopped as Yao and Ivan came into sight, walking toward them. Yao shook his head, frowning. "You found nothing?"

"No," Francis replied. "Perhaps we didn't understand the Joker's words."

Ivan, eyes narrowed, stared out at the abandoned wasteland, tilting his head. "There is no one here. Perhaps no one can destroy the core."

Silence fell upon the group. _It can't end this way,_ Arthur mused. _There's something that we're missing._

Alfred opened his mouth, and suddenly, the entire ground started to shake. Francis yelped in shock and Yao latched onto Ivan as the humming Arthur had heard before in the room started to grow louder and louder, a low, ominous sound that terrified Arthur. He fell to the ground as the earthquake intensified, trying to cover his ears, when Yao shrieked above the blaring noise, " _Watch out_!"

Alfred bowled Arthur over in a sudden flurry- confused, Arthur pushed himself up to see the ground splitting, a deep crack in the earth separating he and Alfred from the other three. Eyes wide and frantic, Arthur gripped Alfred's arm, glancing up at the man's dirt-streaked face, trying to focus as the deafening hum made his head pound ferociously. Alfred's blue eyes bored into his, widening in fear as he yelled, "Arthur! You're bleeding!"

Petrified, Arthur touched his ear, feeling liquid dripping from his ear and staining his jaw. Bringing his fingers into view, he saw bright red blood staining his fingertips. Alfred covered his ears with his hands and protectively brought him closer, frantically searching for escape. Dust kicked up all around them as the humming intensified, causing Arthur to cry out in pain, Alfred's hands pressing firmly against his ears in an attempt to protect them.

The structures above began to screech- suddenly, a large metal pole whizzed by Alfred and Arthur, huddled on the ground. Arthur's fingers gripped Alfred's coat in terror as they watched the metal fall into the gigantic hole. It dawned on Arthur, as more metal started whipping by them, that the hole was generating an impossibly strong magnetic force, drawing anything metal into it.

Alfred shouted above the chaotic noise, "We have to get out of here!" He grabbed Arthur's hand and raced toward the forest, cut off by the ground beginning to split and sink into the hole that was slowly absorbing metal and earth, growing like a vortex.

The ground vibrated and started to crumble as it cracked into sections, slanting toward the hole at a sharp angle. Alfred yelped and stumbled as the earth slanted, grip on Arthur's arm growing firmer as Alfred hoisted Arthur to his level. They frantically raced up the sloping ground, jumping over the cracks, when Arthur suddenly stopped in his tracks with an alarmed cry.

Alfred whirled around, howling, "What's wrong?!"

"The core!" Arthur shrieked. "It's metal!"

Everything metal was sucked into the hole, making the core hard to hold. Alfred, shaking his head, yelled, "Let it go!"

"What?!"

Ivan was suddenly on the ground above them, shouting out, "Give me your hands! The entire ground you're standing on is over a metal structure- you'll be sucked in with it!"

Alfred's hand instantly clasped Ivan's, eyes locking in understanding and a new sense of camaraderie. He pulled Arthur close to him, yelling, "Just let the core go!"

Breathing out for a moment, Arthur nodded, and let his grip go slack. The core slid out of his hands and whipped away, drawn toward the metal-attracting hole as Alfred lifted Arthur up to Ivan, hissing with exertion, "Him first!" Before Arthur could resist, Ivan gripped his hands and grunting, lifted him up to his level. As Arthur reached the top, he spotted Yao holding a groaning and writhing Francis, dark red blood pooling around him, streaking down his chest. A distressed sound fell from Arthur lips as he struggled over the edge, hoisting himself up and scrabbling over the ground, hovering over Francis on his knees.

A piece of flying metal had impaled him in the stomach. White blouse stained ugly, dark red, Francis cried out in agony, his hand gripping Arthur's as Yao cradled his head close to his chest, fingers soothingly stroking through his hair. Arthur's heart swelled with emotion at the heartbreaking scene, as Yao rocked Francis back and forth, trying to comfort him. The Queen's green eyes locked with Yao's golden, both terrified, when Ivan yelled, "Watch out!"

Arthur acted on pure instinct. He shoved Yao and Francis out of the way roughly as a long metal chain hurtled for them, and tried to move himself, but the thick chain wrapped around his leg and started to drag him across the ground. Yao leapt for him, screaming, " _Arthur!"_

Their hands locked, Yao being dragged across the ground with Arthur. Before they could go over the first unstable edge, Ivan grabbed Yao, holding him and trying to lift Alfred up at the same time. The chain wrapped tighter around Arthur's legs, burn excruciating, making tears of exertion fall from Arthur's eyes as he cried out.

"Hold on!" Ivan yelled, violet eyes wide in panic. Yao gritted his teeth together, screaming, refusing to let Arthur's sweaty palm go. Golden eyes again met green, both watery with pain and exhaustion and terror. Yao's eyes searched his frantically, choking out the same words Ivan had shouted.

Arthur lowered his head, eyes wide, moisture falling down his cheeks as everything suddenly became clear.

_I have to destroy the core._

Lifting his head, Arthur shared one last look with Yao, and let go. Yao screamed out, almost jumping over the edge, but Ivan grabbed him, lips parting in shock as realization dawned on him, too. The core, when in contact with the computer screen, had triggered the entire breakdown- the factory had been created by Gilbert in the very beginning of this world. Gilbert hadn't lied. He'd intended for this to happen. He'd known it was going to happen since he woke up in this new world.

Dragged across layers and layers of crumbling earth, Arthur neared the gigantic hole, heart pounding as he started to fall over the edge, feeling his body start to free-fall into the dark pit-

A strong hand gripped his forearm. Arthur cried out as the chain pulled taut, burning his legs and stretching his body painfully. He looked up, vision blurred with tears- Alfred hung, suspended over one of the metal structures too long to be pulled fully into the hole, one hand grasping Arthur and the other grasping the huge metal beam.

"I've got you," he whispered fiercely, jaw trembling, barely loud enough for Arthur to hear.

Arthur dangled, only Alfred's hand saving him from certain doom. He looked down, into the seemingly endless pit, and back up at Alfred, eyes wide, fresh tears welling up. "Al," he sobbed out. "Help me, Al." _Please don't let me go. I can't do it. I'm not strong enough._

Sweat beaded across Alfred's forehead, and screaming out, he threw his head back and tried pulling Arthur up to no avail. The thick chain pulled Arthur lower, the metal attraction too powerful to be freed.

Blue eyes met green. Frantically, Arthur tried to take in all he could of Alfred, wishing desperately to rewind time, to tell Alfred everything, to give Alfred himself. He realized Alfred wasn't going to let go- Alfred would go down with him. "Al," he cried out again, this time with new resolve. He was going to die for his Kingdom. He was going to save Alfred, and Ivan, Francis and Yao- he was going to purge Alfred of his past.

And Alfred knew what he was doing. Gritting his teeth, tears welled in his eyes, hysterically yelling, "Don't you dare, Iggs. _Don't you dare_."

Arthur cried, too, staring blearily up at his lovely Alfred, the man he'd give everything for.

And he let go.


	11. Epilogue

The humming had turned faint as Arthur's eyes flickered open, adjusting to darkness. Shock numbed his body, bruised, bloody, broken- raggedly he breathed, choking up red blood, vision blurred. Thick and heavy metal structures loomed above him. Though every part of his body burned, Arthur tilted his head, barely making out light above him, and felt hot moisture staining his cheeks.

Chest heaving for breath, Arthur gave a hoarse cry, ears so damaged that it sounded muffled. He squeezed his eyes shut, laying limp in a shallow puddle of water and blood, feeling hard rock digging into his back, scraping his arms. The metal screeched above, sliding down ever so slowly toward Arthur, ready to crush him.

Something started to glow, so near to his face that Arthur opened his eyes slowly. The core lay right beside him, emitting a brilliant blue light, a lamp in the dark.

As Arthur stared at the core, Gilbert's words filtered into his mind. Destroying the core, he had said, would destroy the past. _All of the past,_ Gilbert had stressed. _All of the past,_ Arthur's mind echoed.

_I know you fear the future. But the people you know, and the people you see here will live on, in the next life and the next- a never ending universe for us all. No matter what we remember, what we forget, Arthur, we all will be together- always. Do you understand?_

Only now did it become clear what Arthur was doing. He wasn't just clearing the past- by destroying the core, he'd destroy this world. The universe was timeless: the next world awaited everyone. There was still hope. He'd see Alfred, and Yao, and Francis, and Ivan. Because no matter what they would remember, what they would forget, they would still be together and finally _happy._

Gritting his teeth, Arthur pushed himself onto his side, crawling, dragging his broken body across the jagged ground. The core glowed brighter as his aura neared, as if it could sense him. Trembling hands grasped across the ground, fingers wrapping around a large stone.

Screaming, Arthur struck the core with the heavy stone, agonizing, searing pain shooting through his entire body. Again, he hit the core, and again, crying out desperately, "Come on _,_ you son of a bitch! _Come on!"_

He wouldn't be able to keep the attack going for long. The gigantic metal beams were nearing, and if he didn't pass out first, he'd be crushed, and everyone would still be stuck in this world with memories of a blood-stained past.

Every strike sent tremors through his body, fingers bleeding, scratched up from the jagged rock. Every time the stone struck the core, it shuddered itself, resiliently glowing. Arthur wasn't sure if he was sobbing, screaming, or both, throat raw as he choked on more blood. One last time, he slammed the ragged stone against the core-

Everything went white.

—

In the spring, the train stations were full, bustling with people headed every which way. Young and old stood on the platforms under the canopy, waiting for the train to pull into the station, holding crumpled pink tickets, spring breeze whisking their hair and coats to and fro. A certain soccer team stood amongst the crowd, talking and laughing, waving at the small children who stared in curiosity at their white athlete uniforms.

However, among the group of athletes, one was missing. He was usually late, they chuckled as the whistle of a train blew. The steam engine pulled into the station, hissing with the strong smell of smoke. As passengers finally exited on the other side of the platform, the doors on the entering side opened. The large group piled into the black train, handing their tickets to tired man collecting them, including the soccer team who still lacked a certain player.

As the last of the people crowded into the train, a young man came racing through the doors of the station out onto the now empty platform, holding up his ticket and calling out, "Wait! I'm coming!"

His team, in the train, slid up the windows, laughing, "Come on, Kirkland!"

Just as he neared the train doors, another body collided with his, sending him with an undignified cry to the wood platform. The doors closed and the train started to roll off, his teammates shouting jovial farewells and laughs of good luck.

Whoever had knocked him down started profusely blabbering apologies. The soccer player on the ground stared up at him, observing the brown box-shaped glasses, the neat clothes, the black Nikon camera hanging around his neck, and smiled.

"That's quite alright," the athlete stated, staring into relieved blue eyes. The photography student reached out his hand to help the other off the floor.

Their hands clasped, and the photography student asked amicably, "What's your name?"

"Arthur," the athlete replied, dusting off his white uniform as he returned to his feet. "Yours?"

The student smiled, as radiant as sunshine, Arthur thought, and replied, "Alfred. Alfred Jones."

Eyes bright, Arthur noted that the train was long gone, the smell of smoke still lingering. For some reason, it didn't matter anymore. "Well, thank you for helping me up. I must be going- can't miss our first game." He waved and turned, securing his black sports bag across his shoulder, smiling to himself.

However, just as he reached the terminal doors, Alfred called out, "Hey, wait a minute." Arthur turned, eyebrows raised curiously. Alfred's forehead crinkled, tilting his head. "Have we... have we met before?"

Arthur smiled, shaking his head. "I don't think so. Take care, Alfred." He turned again and set his hand on the door handle, ready to catch a cab and bribe him to speed to Wembley Stadium. But again, Alfred's voice rang out.

"Wait," he repeated. Arthur wanted to feel exasperated but didn't, turning around to face the photographer. He let out a small, nervous laugh, the breeze sweeping his hair to the side. "I-" he endearingly broke off with an awkward chuckle, making Arthur laugh softly. "I feel like I've known you my entire life, a-and there's a Starbucks right around the corner, and I think your accent means you like tea, and I owe you for making you miss your train." He paused, ran a hand through his untamable hair, and then grinned.

The breeze swept Arthur's hair away from his face, and he let go of the door handle slowly, an uncontrollable smile spreading across his face as he gazed at this strange, lovely man who nervously held out his hand and invited him to Starbucks and could tell he adored tea.

"I'd love to, Alfred."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending is up to interpretation. My thoughts are that this new Human AU universe Arthur and Alfred live in is the world we are living in now. Haha, not to be one of those "HETALIA IS REEEAL!" people, but... ok, I'm totally one of those people.
> 
> Everyone who reads and reviews are very, very dear to me. Those of you who have commented several times, I thank you exceedingly.
> 
> So, I'm off to brainstorm my next story. As Francis would say- Au revoir!


End file.
